Sylvanas Windrunner: Cleansing the World of Evil
by The Nickname
Summary: An alternate version of the events of Battle For Azeroth. The Horde and Alliance have teamed up again to finally bring down their most hated enemy. Little did they know just how their hatred would doom the world they protect. At their most dire hour, they seek the help of an adversary to save the world, who has since grown reluctant. Rated T for violence. Reviews are encouraged.
1. If Only They Knew

**Chapter 1: If Only They Knew...**

Of course.

Of course this was going to happen.

These idiots… these hateful and arrogant thugs I once considered my closest allies… and allies of my father and my people.

The world has always been so small to them… their problem had always been so small, so contained… And they did all they could to keep believing that they deserved their victories.

No longer.

For now they have all gotten what they've always wanted, and now they must pay for their grave mistakes. Their crimes against their own better judgement and against the legacy we citizens of Azeroth have held dear for thousands of years.

All undone by the hatred for a single soul.

Were I not the Man of the Light that I am, I would damn them to the farthest reaches of the void.

But as I say this, I must confess myself partially responsible for their whim, as I had not the strength nor the will to oppose their ways nor to ward off what consequences would come of their actions.

I have earned this fate as any of them have. But for the souls that suffer unjustly for our actions, I cannot abandon them. We all have a responsibility for this world, and we never truly understood that responsibility until now…

And worse…. To know the one person who did know it was once, and may yet be considered, the most hated being in all of Azeroth's history…

She knew it… she knew it all along…

* * *

We had tracked her to the most appropriate location. To where it had all started and the one place where we could've brought it to an end. It would've been poetic, the best kind of justice.

According to our reliable sources within the Horde, there had been times when she had mysteriously disappeared for brief intervals and would spontaneously re-emerge to continue her duties as the false Warchief. But for how they tried and where they had tracked her, none could tell us what she was doing in those brief times of absence, and nobody could be sure where she was going.

Until that moment. Our ally, the sister of our enemy, had an 'epiphany'.

She had suggested that her sibling may hide somewhere that had long since been destroyed; a homeland that had been destroyed not a month ago and was left uninhabitable. Most odd of all to me was how everyone had been so accepting of her estimations, and none had questioned or even considered it overall suspicious. Their hatred and greedy desire for a justice long undeserved had dulled their better judgement, and they had nought to consider in their miserable lives but the end of the one life we had all sought.

I would've suggested sending a team to investigate, but knowing my allies, I suspected they would refusing the opportunity to deliver their justice by their own hands. And so, a journey was made to Tirisfal Glades and we landed along the northern shores, our party traveling south to the gates of what was once was said to be a beautiful city.

Lordaeran. Mastered by the long dead King Terenas Menethil and seized by his foul son Arthas and his undead Scourge army. I had not seen what the kingdom had looked before those events, as that had been before my time. How I wish I had grown up in such times, as opposed to the present. The city would then face a… better? Worse? … 'Different' fate when the Lich King of the Scourge would be usurped by 'Her' and her undead Forsaken rebellion. From here they would remain, dark and disloyal allies of the Horde, and thus the greatest threat to the Alliance that the Horde possessed.

My colleague, the most insufferable old brute I had ever met after my father, had the nerve to further poison my thoughts with his rage and seethe. He stated "To think that such a great kingdom of the Alliance should fall to such vile hands for so many years! It belongs in the hands of those who had had built it from the ground up and ruled these lands justly. I speak for the Alliance when I say that this kingdom deserves better than to be represented by such villains".

Genn Greymane. King of Gilneas. He was there during the time before the fall of Lordaeran, a man seeking liberation from the wars waged against the horde and the chaos within the Alliance. He succeeded his people from the Alliance and walled his people away from what terrors lurked outside. And now… this dog… this filthy deserter dares to speak for the people he had left to die so long ago?!

I had little time to consider these words at the time they were spoken, as our long time opposition and their leaders arrived and joined us. They too sought justice for the tyranny and betrayal that this foul bitch had brought upon our two benevolent peoples. Thrall, having seen the state of the horde and the unspeakable methods of the Banshee Queen, abandoned his retirement to right the wrongs that we had all suffered at this one person's hands. With the Horde by our side, victory can always be assured, as our fellow alliance leaders proceeded towards the city.

By word of our guide, the target had no guards and no support while she was here, though there was no knowing how she would survive the vile plague that filled the streets of this kingdom. All who had remains were eradicated in second, though we had little concern thanks to our ally, the arcane enchantress and long-time negotiate of the Horde and Alliance.

Miss Proudmoore, more known today for her own questionable acts of recent history, protected us from the plague with an arcane shield. Sheltered by the mere integrity of one person, yet insistent to get a revenge that was so close now. We proceeded into the depths of the Forsaken's underground dungeon, the appropriately named Undercity where the dregs of existence would lurk. Through what must be admitted to be a rather impressive structure of an underground fortress, if somewhat gothic and depressing, we happened upon the royal chambers.

Through the winding tunnels lay the main chamber, followed by a labyrinth of winding tunnels leading to various rooms of varying relevance. As we descended into the chamber, Jaina Proudmoore soon realised a sudden lack of plague in the main chamber. As the spell was broken and we wandered the room curiously, we concluded that this was done deliberately to protect this chamber and what it might hold. To the others, this confirmed it; she _was_ here, she _was_ up to something, and we needed to stop her and finally bring that bitch to justice.

To prevent all possible escape routes, we split up and began roaming the different chambers, expecting to ambush their target in a joined effort. As several groups investigated the wings of the chamber, I was leading four guards and sent them to check for traps. While in one particular corridor, I passed a door and sent the two soldiers ahead to scout, when I suddenly noticed something rather peculiar. Under the door was a consistently shifting light, not akin to candlelight nor sunlight were there any in this cursed land.

Unlike my conclusive colleagues, I was more curious about this woman's motivations, even if the lengths had been clearly established by the insurmountable blood on her hands. Intrigue got the best of me and I snuck into the room while my companions were preoccupied with their hunt for traps. Knowing the reputation she had developed for her strategic capabilities, those paranoid soldiers would take their time to satisfy themselves of the room's obvious safety.

The room had become dark by the time I had entered and I drove myself to press into the darkness, striving to keep my presence unknown to both my allies and my enemy. I crept towards a corner and pressed my back to the wall, peeking my eye around the corner for any trace of movement or light. As soon as my eye began to adjust to the blackness surrounding me, it was then assaulted by another wave of light from within the tunnel. I flinched and hid behind the wall again, waiting for the light to dim before moving again.

I continued creeping until I came to the end of the tunnel, leading to a descending staircase with a banister allowing view of the whole room below. I crouched by the bannister and peered through the gap, before freezing with surprise.

There she is.

The most hated woman in all of Azeroth.

The false Warchief.

The Banshee Queen.

Sylvanas Windrunner.

Guised in a black hooded cloak that hid her entire body and head, only her arms and hands were visible to my eyes. She was facing away from me and leaning over a table, an assortment of chemicals and scrolls strewn about. As I watched her go about her work, I noticed an odd element to her mannerisms; she was shaking profusely, as if she were frightened or stressed… or ecstatic. Perhaps whatever she was working on, she was coming close to the final solution.

Suddenly, to his shock, she turned on her heel and faced the stairs, driving me to hide the wall from her view. Hidden from his sight was the pair of vials in her hands, one filled with a putrid green chemical and the other a glowing gold chemical. Her hands outstretched, she held the vials together and muttered under her breath, the echo of her voice reaching even my ears. "Light willing…" her voice strained as she spoke, "… please… please work this time".

I, once again ensnared by curiosity's whim, peaked my eye around the corner a second time, watching Sylvanas' trembling hands twists and the glowing formula was poured haphazardly in amidst the foul concoction. The room was as silent as the grave as both of us awaited something to happen, as the chemical swirled and pulsed together with its counterpart in her waning grip.

In the span of a few seconds, a light bloomed in the formula and shone throughout the room obscuring my sight and even sending Sylvanas recoiling. There had been few times that I was repelled by the light, but this creation of Sylvanas was unlike anything he had ever known. As the light withdrew into its glass confines and the room was shrouded in darkness again, Sylvanas and I both stared silently at her solution.

"Damn!" she suddenly snarled. Gripping the vial with rage as her body trembled with frustration. She turned and stormed over to the table and prepared to place the concoction with the rest of her collection. She leaned against the table as exhaustion washed over her, her arm unsupported as it was tasked to place the vial in the open space. However, in the momentary lack of support, her arm had an unexpected spasm and the vial shook dangerously, small drops of the concoction flicking about.

"Ack!" Sylvanas screamed in panic as she rushed to hold her grip on the potion, only for her hand to come in contact with a few droplets. Dropping the vial on the floor, she jerked back in horror as the formulas splashed across the ground. Backing against the wall, he held her hand to her face and examined it, and confirmed, to her horror, that the droplets had begun seeping into her skin.

"No! No! Nonononono!" She hissed as her grip on her arm tightened, the droplets disappearing under her skin as I watched on. Unlike what I might have expected, she didn't seem to be in any pain or discomfort, but she was scared all the same. But as I was considering what to do next, I heard another sound growling louder from behind me. I turned and tried my best to see who it was; but as the sound grew louder, I could not resist the urge to back away cautiously.

Unfortunately, I had accidentally backed right onto the staircase and was exposed for my enemy to see. But luckily for me, when I looked down to see if she had noticed my presence, she was already preoccupied. I paused in awe of what she was in the midst of doing, as she had drawn her sword and leaned heavily against the table, her arm outstretched upon her scattered scrolls. Her arm twitched violently as she pressed all her body weight upon it to keep it still, her sword held in the air. In the final moments of the formerly serene atmosphere, I caught the vague glimpse of her eyes, watering profusely.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!"

I was speechless.

Why the hell did she do that?

What was it for?

Even as she stepped back from the table, her shoulder firmly in her clutched as she shrieked in agony, it was surreal to see her arm still on the table. Dark Blood flowed over the edge of the wooden platform and began mingling amongst the spilled chemical and broken vial glass on the floor. She stumbled clumsily as she released a second screech, her eyes unshifting from her own arm as it lay motionlessly on the table. "No… Noo…" she whimpered, "I can't… what now? … Must hide…. Need a new arm…. Can't know…. They can't know….. Not yet!"

"SOLDIERS!"

Anduin turned his gaze up to find none other than Greymane standing at the ready as he barked "She's been found! FORWARD!" Within seconds, several soldiers, and the rest of the Alliance and Horde leaders, had arrived on the scene and began descending the staircase. Greymane vaulted over the banister and landed in his worgen form, his fangs and claws demanding to be sated with this' witch's blood. The other leaders and their soldiers converged into the room, creating a circle around the overwhelmed assailant.'

This was it.

No portals.

No poison arrows.

No allies to fall back on.

This was it.

The moment everyone was waiting for.

Sylvanas stood motionlessly as the soldiers pointed their weapons in her direction, unwilling to risk an unexpected trap she'd waited to spring. I stood amongst my fellow leaders and for a moment, was distracted by their faces. I could see it perfectly. Greymane, Whisperwind, Proudmoore, Saurfang. All of them, I could hardly recognise as who they were before.

I wish there was something to see; the rage and aggression, the passion for battle, the excitement for victory.

Something!

But instead, I saw nothing but a black emptiness in their faces, as if there was nothing left to look forward in their lives to except this moment. I had always sensed this side of my allies; but no matter how I refused to believe it, this moment has likely proven the obvious to me.

This is them.

Who they really were.

Who've they become.

And they can never go back.

"You have no idea how long I've waited for this moment, witch" Greymane snarled, as Whisperwind stepped in and hissed "I, _too_, have anticipated this final hour of your existence". I could already tell, my voice would go unheeded, if heard at all, as my colleagues would not be swayed in their intended courses of action. All the same, I remained attentive and would not allow for these Alliance and Horde heroes forsake their duties, not even in favour of this much earned revenge.

"There are a many things that my people stand for, banshee" Thrall stated, "And even I cannot abide by them if it will allow someone like you to rise again!" "We shall not be so forgiving, Orc recluse!" Whisperwind snapped as she pushed past him, involuntarily forcing me further into the back of the assembly. "No people have suffered as greatly for this monster's treachery, and we have every intention of returning ever horrendous punishment she has earned!"

"Don't you wish to know why?"

The room fell silent and all eyes were on the hooded figure as she began choking under her breath, her stump of an arm only now acknowledge as the blood flowed through her other hand's fingers and dripped down her side. Some were confused, most were intrigued, but none could speak as they carefully watched her movements. She glanced down at the table, all of her hard work; the scrolls, the chemicals, the formulas, her ultimate unknown plot.

She suddenly reached for the nearby lit candle and head it to her side, the rest of the Alliance and Horde readying for combat. All were still.

Until….

Her arm fell.

And the candle collided with the table.

Within moments, the entire bench was engulfed in flames, sending some of the soldiers stepping back in hesitation. We all watched as the flames consumed the documents, burned the formulas and destroyed all of her work. Nothing remained to be read, examined or salvaged. This was all too strange. She had not pleaded, nor begged for her work, nor her life. Whatever she had been working on, she obviously didn't want us to know about it.

Or perhaps, she didn't want us to have it.

"I couldn't care less what depravity you have concocted in this dreadful tomb!" Greymane spat, "I refuse to let you exist in this world a minute longer!" He was ready, but before he could unleash his wrath, he was held back by the powerful grip of the former Warchief. "Your vengeance is not your own to savour, Worgen! She must pay for her crimes as all Horde must pay it!"

"GET OFF ME, ORC SCUM!" Greymane roared as he swiped at Thrall, barely missing his throat as the shaman stumbled back in surprise.

"Stop!" I finally stepped forward and stepped between the two, whilst Sylvanas remained eerily unmoving, her expression inscrutable and her thoughts unfathomable. "I cannot ask any more from you than what you have given. All of you!" I declared "But I must ask for patience this one last time!" All of my fellow leaders murmured unintelligibly as I continued "Justice for the fallen, for our citizens, our homes; I promise you all, it will come!" I stepped ahead of the rest of them, never losing sight of Sylvanas at any time, before I concluded "But if this bloodshed and madness is to truly come to an end, then _we _must be the ones to end it and assure it never continues through any of us!"

"A bold… claim…" the drained banshee huffed as her posture waned from the blood loss, "But I feel your words fall on deaf ears…". Her piecing red eyes scanned across the faces in the room, "You surely know your colleagues well enough, Boy King… to know my fate was decided by them some time ago". I could see a faint, pallid tone in her cheeks as the bleeding elf released her arm, holding them on the open in preparation. She glared expectantly towards my allies, and I awaited their response through the silence.

She was testing us again. That much had to be obvious, surely. The leaders seemed to hesitate for a brief moment, thankfully questioning this new, yet equally peculiar, behaviour from this manipulative creature. I could not tell what she had planned, for which I have grown to fear and possibly even overestimate her. My instincts convinced me of her deception and I refused to fall for her bluff.

"Fetch some Irons. We take-"

Before I could even finish my order.

It was like a tidal wave. Not of water, but something unrecognisable.

Greymane, Proudmoore, Thrall, Saurfang, Whisperwind…

All of them.

Within the first few seconds of furious roars and the quakes of the room and falling stones, one could hear the sounds of their victim, being beaten and slashed without remorse or restraint.

Before I could even intervene, a pair of arms held me back and pulled me away from the carnage, a pair of elven soldiers with shields held before them. I could do naught but watch as my friends, my long time sources of guidance for the greater good, banded together against on target and mercilessly ravaged her. And amidst the tangling roots sprouting from the floor to the sound of flesh colliding with the stone walls and the splatters of blood that accompanies her broken form, I heard no sound from the Banshee Queen as she was eviscerated.

She was silent for it all. I couldn't understand that.

How the hell could she not speak or even scream for this horrendous act. All that she must've feared was coming to pass, and she had not even the notion to respond as anyone else would.

My friends.

The smell of blood.

The fire in the corner of the room.

The smoke.

The noise.

In pulled away from the two guards who had seized me and wandered silently to the staircase, looking nowhere except ahead to the exit as the sound of all I've come to hate in the world remained behind me. Beneath me, as it shall always be.

I shut the door to let my fellow leaders have their day, and returned to the central chamber where the vacant through lay empty.

From there, it would be several minutes of almost serene silence before any sound caught my attention.

"It has to be done… You understand, Anduin".

I turned my gaze to a lone figure, a dark form in the shape of an elven ranger approaching me with a dark aura about their body. I breathed through my nose and shut my eyes, and she must've sensed my inner conflict. "Indeed, it is barbaric" Alleria admitted as she stood beside me, "Even I cannot be there to witness such cruelty upon… my sister". I held my tongue, having naught to respond with and simply ignoring her presence as best I could. I meant her no malice, which she must've understood; but this… all of this…

"I need time… alone" I stated firmly, "I have much to ponder".

Only the following sound of her footprints proceeded my request, to which I was grateful.

Time past by slowly, unbearably, as I awaited the chance to finally leave this place and be done with this entire ordeal. I could hear the faint sound of footsteps approaching as I stood at the foot of the chamber's central staircase. From behind, the sound of marching soldiers and rustling weapons echoed through the chamber. I opened my eyes, dreading my next action, before turning to face my fellow leaders.

I stepped away from the staircase and mingled amongst them as they chattered with eachother, their words drowned out as I passed through them. I looked at each of their faces and they must've interpreted that as interest, or perhaps acceptance of the past hour. Before I had realised it, Proudmoore had already cast the protection spell and we began our gradual ascent to the surface.

In time, we would be back to our homelands and I can finally escape the many horrible thoughts floating in my mind.

But in all honestly, there is one memory that I believe will haunt me for the rest of my life.

A nightmarish moment however brief, that I may never forget.

Genn Greymane.

Flesh hanging from his canines. His palms soaked in blood. Looking the way he did.

That's the happiest I had ever seen him.

_**TO BE CONTINUED...**_

* * *

**I came up with the idea for this story about a year ago, while the expansion Battle for Azeroth was in it's adolescence. I had been so against the plot we were getting that I felt compelled to right my own version. To any in the same boat as me, I hope my version of the story will be more satisfactory.**

**More are on the way. But unlike how I usually release them all at once, I'll be releasing these gradually.**

**So please be patient and enjoy.**


	2. Delicious Victory

**Chapter 2: Delicious Victory**

It had taken too long for us to get back to our homeland.

My return to sanity had not come quick enough.

We have been sailing for a whole night, and the tension on-board the vessel could be cut with a knife. Little was said between the crewmembers or the Leaders of the Alliance. The Horde had gone their own separate ways, and I would envy them assuming they hadn't a similar awkward and intense atmosphere plaguing their return home in victory. There had been little in the way of obstacles or complications in the return to the Easter Kingdoms, something that I confess made the experience all the worse as I could not distract myself with external issues.

As we approached the docks of our beloved Stormwind City, I could already predicts the ensemble of rowdy citizens praising and congratulating us on our actions. The ship landed and the crowd when wild with screams and cheers as the guards at the end of the dock held them at bay while we stepped down and gathered at the end of the walkway.

I did my best to hide my exhaustion and maintain a regal posture in my stride, whilst my allies saw fit to marge dutifully towards the ravenous crowd. Much of what was said had been drowned out and I only have vague memories of that brief experience. However, there was only moment where the haze of fatigue had listed and the words spoken became clear as the wind. And I had come to expect such words to be spoken from, it was my companion Genn Greymane that graced my thoughts with his addressing of the crowd.

"… but with our combined efforts, the treacherous bitch is no longer a blight on this world!"

Men.

Woman.

Even children.

The explosion from the crowd was enough to drive me to the most insane and malicious acts.

I didn't want to hear this…

I REALLY didn't want to hear this.

* * *

The remainder of our return to Stormwind Keep is lost to me, as amidst my thoughts of the recent past mixed the uncertain future that haunted me.

Once we had arrived, I took no time in retreating to my private quarters and discarding my armour, before roaming in the halls of the keep as I pondered my many questions unanswered.

Possibly even unanswerable.

The rest of the leaders had remained, I understood as I passed by Malfurion discussing their future together with Tyrande. I couldn't help but sense dissatisfaction in their voices, as if this victory they had strived for had not granted the joy and sense of accomplishment they had suspected.

Hours passed and much had occurred. Genn Greymane had suggested a feast in celebration on our success, claiming it shall "be remembered as a victory worthy of those lost to her wrath".

Why did he feel the need to bring them into this?

As if I hadn't my mind clouded by a cesspool of dark and sickening thoughts.

And now.

Here I was.

Seated upon my glorious golden throne at the far end of a banquet table, me and my colleagues awaiting the feast to begin. All had been silent at the table beside the occasional gulp of wine and a conversational murmur. I myself had a decent setup at my table; my compliments to my staff as they had impeccable capabilities in arrangement and style. I began to admire the structure of the keep and pondered the strain and courage of the masons who had built it. The masons that had been scammed out of their money and went on to murder my mothe-

…

…

Why…

Why must the past only be filled with pain?

I can't even have a single happy memory…

Without it being ruined…

Ruined by the Alliance.

My fist tightened around my glass of spring water, and I was soon thankful I hadn't the strength of my allies. Otherwise I surely would've destroyed it in my blind rage. I sighed and place the glass down, soon falling silent once again to distract myself for many and all contemplations I may find myself lost in.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the alliance" a voice graced my ears as the royal chef arrived with his staff, "the feast is prepared. May it be to your liking". Servants moved to greet their respective leaders and deliver their meals, as I myself was greeted warmly by a young waitress. She bared a smile, though I sensed hesitation and caution in her actions, as if she would lose her career at my slightest dissatisfaction. My greatest terror of kinghood that I have held since my youth was for my people to see me not as an idol, but as a boogeyman; some overwhelming force of darkness to keep everyone under my clutches.

I offered a smiled in the hopes that it would boost her confidence, but I sadly mistaken. I hadn't thought until she bowed to be shakily and hastily took her leave that I have further amplified my expectations to her. I live in a grim state indeed if even the most passive and comforting gestures can be considered intimidating. But I'm afraid I didn't have must time to consider this event, as the scent of my meal had already drawn my attention downwards.

I do not consider myself extravagant in terms of my appetite, as my meal was largely insignificant in the presence of my allies' selections. Greymane with his roast boar, the Stormrage couple with their salads and wine, Brann Bronzebeard with his third serving of ale in the past hour. I doubted that any one of them would finish their meals and the remainders would be given to the pigs. I took my fork and was about to begin eating, but found myself distracted by chance of glimpsing my colleagues.

The scowls.

The hate.

Everyone was savouring their meals as if they hadn't eaten in this manner before now. I stared at them and was unable to turn away from their frowns. They began talking between bites and swallows, though I confess what they were discussing was lost to me. I could feel irritation welling inside me, though I could not truly tell why. But as I maintained my gaze upon them, and their conversation continued, I could not abandon the thought of what gloats of success were exchanged. It felt as if they had lost all memory and though of all that had occurred before the death of Sylvanas.

I looked towards their meals.

Regret, repulsion and rage all ensnared me at the sight I beheld.

Among the exposed ribs of Greymane's boar, I could see the lives of Gilneans strewn about, unregarded and ungracious. Genn's fork descended and punctured one such corpse and drew it towards his awaiting maw, destined to satisfy his desire.

I tensed, unresponsive this this atrocity I could see, yet numbed by fatigue to act. I turned my eye towards the Darnassian leaders.

Mingling with the salad greenery and vegetables lay the charred remains of elven citizens, all contorted and toyed with as Tyrande's utensils swam dutifully in search of its next target. She pierced a decrepit body and raised it towards her mouth, enclosing her lips around it to savour the taste of victory. And upon her face no longer was the gracious grin she had offered, but instead had been replaced with a spiteful scowl.

And then came the wine.

At every opportunity I was given, I saw various cups and goblets raised to quench the thirsts of these people. The murky red hue was unmistakable. It was definitely not wine I could see them consuming. The only question I had on my mind was "Whose was it? I'm sure _she_ didn't have enough for all their glasses".

I remained still in my seat for a moment, concerned for what would come next. Nevertheless, I turned my attention to my own plate.

Farmers.

Soldiers.

Innocent civilians robbed on their lives.

All splayed haphazardly across my platter, awaiting exploitation. Men, women, children who had died in various gruesome ways, from poison to butchery to famine. Hesitantly, yet fighting my instincts, I lowered my fork towards one such soul, a little blonde boy from an orphanage without a hope of survival on his own. I raised my fork, and something odd happened. As he draw closer to my mouth, he seemed to age rapidly into a young man, awaiting his fate for the sake of his king.

'_Crunch!'_

…

…

…

It tasted good.

My hand lost control and the fork dropped with an inelegant _'Clang!'_ into the platter. I was frozen with horror and disgust. I cannot believe what just happened, and that I had let it happen.

But as my initial terror subsided, I hung my head and closed my eyes. I breathed slowly, slowing my breath significantly as I calmed myself. And for whatever reason, I found myself beginning to smile. My grin grew and I felt the urge to burst out laughing at this absurd situation. But there may be time for that later, as I had finally come to my decision. I had made a choice for the first time since I replaced my father as the king, and I dare not go back on it.

I looked up to my brethren, silently watching them continue feasting for a moment before I finally stood up from my throne. Within a second, all had fallen silent and all eyes were upon me, awaiting my next act as they settled down in their seats. I stood and glanced down at my glass before gingerly reaching for it, holding it carefully as I looked over the other leaders.

"My dearest friends and heroes of the alliance" I began with confidence, my smile maintained if somewhat relaxed. "Today, we have achieved a great and righteous deed…" I continued, "A deed that shall be remembered for all of time as the day that the Alliance had conquered evil incarnate". The other leaders held a briefly quizzical look on their faces before smiling, possibly not expecting me to share their ideals as much as I seemed to.

"The world of Azeroth shall be forever grateful for our efforts… and I have many of you to thank for our success" I stated. I held my glass towards Genn and Jaina sitting together, "Genn, Jaina, Malfurion and Tyrande; they knew what was the righteous choice, and pursued their justice to the end no matter what the cost!" I looked towards Brann and Gelbin, "And to the others, who had followed in their duty to the Alliance and aided their fellows in everyone's quest for justice!" Everyone was beaming at my words, and I continued.

"But not just us… but there are others who we must thank for their support in this endeavour…" I said, "And despite our past rivalries… I believe all great deeds of others must be acknowledged". I held my hand outstretched with the glass to my side, finishing with "So I must thank the brave and dutiful leaders of the Horde… for standing up for their beliefs and upholding a desire to spread good-will". The seated leaders had that quizzical look again for a brief moment before nodding to eachother in agreement.

I visibly bowed my head to my allies and frowned for them to see, "But… unfortunately, there is one person that deserves this thanks above all". I raised my head and added "And they are sadly unable to attend this excellent feast and celebrate our victory". The leaders traded confused and concerned glances as I paused, before I gave a necessary explanation.

"I understand… despite being the King of Stormwind, all of you have much more experience at leadership than I do. This must be admitted; I have a lot to learn" I stated with a slight nonchalant head tilt. I then added "But even in all the years that I could spend leading the Alliance… I don't think I would've realised what true evil was and how far it could extend if it weren't for their help". I sneered as I gazed into my glass to see my distorted reflection in the water.

"And I believe that is why I shall give this toast… to the late Sylvanas Windrunner".

The sound of several dropped forks into platters was music to my ears.

Thankfully there was none of that "Are you insane?" or "Anduin, come to your senses", so the silence enticed me to continue. "In her time here, and her following demise, she had opened my eyes to the truth of the world" I smiled slightly into my glass and started walking around the table as I continued. "Were it not for her, and her ways… I may've yet been blind to the ways of the world, and I may have made errors in judgement when my faith was misplaced". The leaders seemed to be back on board as I concluded my speech.

"Cheers to Sylvanas Windrunner… for thanks to her, evil will never pass me by unseen ever again!"

There was a cheer from the table as all of the leaders raised their glasses and goblets of assorted beverages.

All their glasses…

I looked across the raised hands, and as I looked…

I realised…

They weren't glasses as they had been before…

…

Each of their hands…

Held…

Sylvanas's severed head.

All of their mouths agape…

Staring at me with their piercing eyes…

…

I stood motionlessly for a second, and I realised I had no longer been holding anything. By then, I had also noticed the sound of glass shattering on the ground next to me, followed by a few startled gasps from the table before me. I clenched my hands into fists as ground my teeth together. I opened my eyes as gave the most searing glare I could as I let my rage flow through my body.

"You all infuriate me".

I heard a few of the leaders rise from their seats.

"You all repulse me".

Some more rose up.

"You all insult me".

At last, they all stood at attention.

I hissed "I have been lead to follow in my father's footsteps… and in the footsteps of the rest of you as I declared myself The King of the Alliance!" At the peak of my rage, I slammed my fist on the table and relieved a few gasps from my table. "At what point was a better world in any of your plans?! _Before_ you bludgeoned an unarmed woman into paste?" I questioned, "Or perhaps _after_ my father died and you all squeezed past me for a chance to replace him… to have thousands of lives to spend just to get that one thing you want?!"

"Anduin, please".

"Shut up!"

Jaina fell silent immediately. She thinks she can be a source of reason, after her various episodes and ploys for genocide and murder?

"I think we all know the truth of the matter" I stated as I accidentally let the sorrow slip by in my voice, "The truth about the Alliance and its King". I breathed steam through my nose, "It never really mattered what I thought could make the Alliance better than before. Because you would rather it be the way it is, and the way it's been for years now….".

I turned and faced away from the leaders towards the long corridor of the Keep. "As long as the Alliance desires this path… then I can never belong here!" I slowly walked to the entrance as I unbuckled my cape and let it drop to the floor. "So I've come to a decision" I spoke in what was barely more than a whisper, "And I will not change it now". I started hearing some leaders stepping away from their seats and approaching me, and I turned around to face them as they immediately froze.

"As long as this is the Alliance… I won't have anything to do with it!" I spat before huffing and preparing to take my leave a second time.

"And I'm certain you will all be fine without me… if not better off".

With that.

It was as if my ears had wilfully sealed shut to drown out all noise.

I was thankful, as I would not need to endure any half-witted demands for my return or pleas for forgiveness to sate one's own guilt.

* * *

Before I knew it, I had finally gotten to the streets of Stormwind. I spent some time roaming the courtyard of the Keep, searching for my horse before finally finding it at the stable preparing to take leave of this cursed place for good. This very well could be the last time that I would see my homeland. Possibly the last memory I would have of my life here, though I would gladly end it here rather than have it further corrupted.

But even here at the penultimate, there must be that last ditch effort, mustn't there be?

"Your highness".

I sighed.

"I will not change my mind".

"I don't expect you to".

I paused when I recognised the voice. I turned to find her approaching me, an ominous aura of shadow trailing with her every step.

"Alleria" I spoke half-heartedly, delaying for a moment before adding "I noticed you were silent at the feast". She nodded slightly, "Yes… I had sensed something was wrong. I should've suspected that your whole ordeal would… well, result in all of this". I closed my eyes and hung my head, "Well, as I've said, I will not change my mind. Good evening, Miss Windrunner". I mounted my horse and secured my possessions to the saddle. "I just have one last thing to do" I said as I glimpsed my father's sword in its sheath, before sighing a second time.

"I shall return it to its rightful owner. And _then_ I shall take my leave".

Alleria bowed her head and smiled "Well, if that's what you wish, I shall not stop you". Just then, her smile turned from respect to one of smugness and mischief, "You may miss many… developments in your absence".

"I'm aware" I replied as I tightened my grip on the reigns.

"I do not wish to be here to see you destroy my home".

Alleria's smile fell slightly and her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. I looked down at her, the colour and life drained from my features.

It took little time for her smile to return.

"How long have you known?" She questioned, a faint echo in her voice. As I remained in her presence, I began to feel a cold sensation in the air.

"Not long enough, it seems" I answered solemnly. "That 'epiphany' of yours was _exactly_ what everyone wanted to hear" I explained, "Of _course_ none of them realised it was a huge trick". Her chuckle sent chills up my spine, as a faint whisper followed her words and grew louder the longer she spoke.

We were both silent for a moment, though I believe she was waiting for me to ask my inevitable question.

"Why did you need Sylvanas dead?"

She didn't answer at first, so I decided to offer some motivation. "It's only the two of us here… And I'm certain my warnings would go unheeded" I admitted, my voice becoming weak towards the end. She raised her eyebrow curiously, "And you're not even going to try and warn everyone? You really _have_ lost all faith haven't you?"

I couldn't answer and I simply sat there on my horse, though I think she got the answer she was looking for anyway.

Just then.

It occurred to me.

"She was dangerous to you somehow, _wasn't_ she?"

For the first time, Alleria's smile completely vanished.

I would feel some sense of accomplishment from that, but the bitter truth robbed me of such a luxury. "And now that she's dead, you will have no problems going about your plans. Correct?"

Her grin returned, "None". She stepped back from me and my horse, her arms reaching out into the air. I could see a dark essence emitted from her palms, descending to the floor and seeping into the ground. Just the mere sight of such magic repulsed me, and had involuntarily revitalised some of my lost willpower. I was half tempted to drop from my horse and combat her, but my contemplating the options was interrupted.

All at once, I found myself on the floor and constantly twisting and flopping across the unstable ground, my ears deafened by the cataclysmic sound of an explosion. The ground trembled underneath me and I could hardly maintain balance for the time it lasted. Stunned and incapacitated without a hope of regaining focus, I could pay no heed to the castle walls collapsing around me and who know how much more carnage elsewhere. After a moment, the tremors subsided and I finally got a chance to really acknowledge my surroundings.

….

Nothing was left untouched.

I stood up.

…

All the screaming…

…

There were no houses.

The canals…

Nothing was left untouched.

…

It was all destroyed…

"Damn. Seems you won't get that chance anymore".

Oh…

I need to know.

I have to make sure!

Please let it be still there!

Please! Still be there!

All time disappeared for me and I remember finding the canal bridge to the west end of Stormwind.

My father's memorial.

It was still there.

I hurried to it as fast as I could, his sword held tightly in my grasp.

I fell.

I have no idea why. I hadn't tripped.

But even worse, I felt nothing in my body.

I couldn't get up.

My muscles weren't responding.

Nausea.

My eyes started to shut, and I couldn't keep them open.

Everything went dark.

**_TO BE CONTINUED..._**

* * *

**Most of these chapters have been written in one sitting, so expect some edits after they are uploaded.**


	3. The World Through Immortal Eyes

**Chapter 3: The World Through Immortal Eyes**

"Little Lion…"

I had awoken to a putrid stench in the air, abusing my senses and permeating my airways. My throat tightened and my lungs strained as I lay helplessly, mustering what feeling I could find in my body. As I drew strength through my body, I focus shifted to the voice that I had heard and I strained to recall it. The voice itself had been a low groan, boastful and as dramatic as a kaldorei moon well ritual. And even yet, as I failed to recognise it, I felt a sense of familiarity from it as I heard its words.

"Open your eyes…"

Its voice bellowed and shook my soul like an earthquake.

"The light blinds you no longer…"

Perverse. Foulness slithering maliciously into my ears and attacking my mind with no remorse.

My faith, my life, life itself was challenged and I must stand to protect it.

"And now… darkness shall consume your world…"

My eyes shot open.

Teeth

Eyes.

Flesh.

So much flesh. Twisting, pulsating, writing, wriggling, stretching and tearing.

I shut them as tight as eye could, but it was too late.

Lucid dreams.

Monsters.

Nightmares.

Fiends with thousands of faces.

Death.

There must be a name.

How can there be a name for this…

"Your world… is dying"

A second voice, much different in tone to the first. Slow and deliberate, croaking as if from strain to its vocals. I would come to believe that this was a completely different entity, but the nonsense of this strange plain left me sceptical. Perhaps a trick, a means to toy with my thoughts once again.

"The souls of your world… we have always fed upon" the first voiced chimed in, "The fear and regret we have savoured for hundreds of years".

Souls. Consuming souls. Feeding on regret.

…

It can't be.

Please let it be anything else.

"Apologies, human child" the voice boomed before dryly chuckling, "But your greatest fears have come to pass".

…

…

The Old Gods.

…

…

"Your despair… the hopelessness…" I could practically feel this malicious entity's thousand smiles, "Delicious…. Ahah…"

"The folly of the light has finally come to an end, and their unearned treasures shall be ours again" spoke a third voice. This voice seemed much deeper and boisterous than the previous two, as it spoke once more "We shall now feast freely on the souls of this world… and finally consume the titan within the heart".

"Do not boast" the dramatic voice lectured with a smarmy chuckle, "It is of no worth here with this single morsel".

Souls.

Fed upon by darkness.

Regrets and fears.

What extent to this could there be.

All souls have fears and regrets… how many…

"Good question, little lion" the deep voice bellowed, "You have begun asking the right questions… for the first time in the service to the light…"

"HARHARHAR!" the dramatic voice howled, "No need to explain it to the human… I have a better idea". A warm gust of wind blew against my body and through my hair, as I could sense the thousands of jagged teeth mere feet away from my face.

"Let us instead show him".

Silence.

A long period of nothing said or heard passed for a moment. I had never felt so alone at any other time in my life than I did here and now for this short while. And what's worse, I can't decide for myself whether I should feel fearful and dismayed by this isolation, or relieved.

As time passed, or what I can only vaguely recognise time as far as my awareness of the realm I am in is concerned, the atmosphere started to settle in. I began listening out for any sound by ears could detect out of instinct, and a certain distant sound soon caught my attentions. A distant song, though somewhat disorganised and random in its shifts and I was driven to listen harder to solve this mysterious cacophony.

How I regret that decision as the sounds eventually became clearer to me.

Screams. Wails and chilling cries of desperation. Pleas for salvation clung to the air and echoed about me.

I tried my best to ignore them in spite of their calling me and their demands for release.

But at some time, and I cannot recall how it came, a certain scream caught my attention about all the rest. The cries of agony grew louder, and I could sense something nearing me as if to entice me to open my eyes and see the cause. The voices became clearer, and I had no option but to recognise who they had belonged to, as I had often heard these exact screams throughout my life.

"Father!"

My eyes flew open and I was treated with a sight.

The sight of which I had never dared to imagine.

My father was there before me.

Tangled and twisted in knots and punctured with razor spines.

And beside him…

"No…"

It couldn't be.

Not her.

Not here.

Why was she here?

Beside her loving husband.

Hovering before her son.

Twitching and writing erratically.

Translucent as a ghost of the past would naturally be.

Why her?

Why here?

"Mother…"

My parents were hovering by me, enduring all manner of unearthly and inhumane torments. My heart was racing and my blood had ran as cold as ice.

"Help us…" a shill and hopeless pair of words were forced through the strained lips of the exhausted and broken spirits of my family. Over and over, the same two words of my family.

I staggered towards them as best as I could, but I could feel the strength in my body disappearing the closer I came to them. My pace slowed as I found myself lowering to the ground, until I was finally on my knees.

Damn them.

Damn them for this.

"One cannot be damned be they damnation" the voices had returned, and the deep voice had remained as cryptic as ever. And all at once, a series of maddening chuckled filled my soul with grief like tainted blood seeping into water to become a chaotic aberration.

"Have you come to understand the truth human?" the dramatic voiced snidely enquired, "This is the cruel truth of the world you live upon". I could feel these dark entities circling me as one continued "Throughout your history, you had believed that the light would spare you from the cauldron of the abyss we call home". "You believe… the light… has abandoned you…" one spoke before I could feel their thousands of sadistic grins upon me, "False… Rhe light… was never there…"

"The truth is" the dramatic voice hissed, "The light never had the power to spare your souls from the void".

"All souls are damned to the void…"

…

How long…

Thousands of years.

Billions upon billions of deaths for thousands of years.

All of them fed to the hungry bellies of these dark deities.

And we never knew… we never knew…

So many great people, all fighting to do what's right.

All punished.

"You believe the world doesn't deserve this fate?" the voices interjected a second time and questioned my thoughts, "Perhaps the faux beauty of Azeroth has distracted these mortals for too long… it's effected their minds beyond repair" the deep voice suggested. A low series of snickered rebounded about the dark empty space, "Correct. Perhaps now…"

My body fell limply to the ground and my vision blackened slowly. I could feel my very existence shift between plains as I returned from whence I had come.

"Perhaps now… you will see the world through immortal eyes".

* * *

My eyes shot open, and it took time for me to focus my eyesight. The blurred mess soon merged into a single consistent picture, but I found myself a witness to a truly grizzly scene before me.

How could this have all happened?

Stormwind.

My beloved home and the home to thousands of good hearted citizens and heroes.

It was barely recognisable amidst the scattered debris and writhing, pulsating masses of otherworldly flesh. And so much darkness blanketed the skies and the land around me that every time of both day and night had merged into one horrendous spectacle of twilight. Merely gazing upon the world before tested my senses to their extremities, and it turned my stomach how could both recognise and not recognise what I boar witness to around me.

I lost all feeling in my legs as I found myself roaming the desolate roadways and passed the crumbled homes of the canal streets. I had no feeling in my face or my arms as I staggered over the strewn debris scarred about me, almost as if my body had accepted the reality of the situation before my mind had. I felt in my heart that even if I had wanted to, there was nothing I could do to change this horrific fate this place had befallen, and that it would be a fool's effort to try.

I had no sense of what strain I had laced o my legs until I had finally arrived before the gates of what was once the mighty Keep of Stormwind City, now in a state to be expected and no longer rouses a response from my worn mind. All the towers crumbled, the main gate left an impassable mess, the once glorious banners of the Alliance now burning and tattered upon the tainted soil. Yet in spite of my submission to this dismal environment, my concerns were rekindled by the thought of the Alliance leaders in possible peril.

I spent some time passing the debris of the keep and made my way through what was left of the halls of the Keep. I staggered around the collapsed walls and climbed the mounds of stone slabs, terrified that my former allies had been buried and crushed beneath the very ground upon which I lay. I needed someone, anyone at all to assure me that I was no longer alone in this struggle and that we could share this chaos as we once did.

"Gearargh…"

I heard a groan from the left, and turned to find a lone figure clawing diligently at the rubble, as if seeking something within. Concluding quite swiftly, I ran over and began aiding him, finally recognising a familiar face. The sight of an elven druid I had earlier scorned was a bittersweet sensation, only to be followed by another familiar voice coming from beneath the rubble.

"Hurry, I can't hold this much longer!"

Jaina Proudmoore.

Within an instant, I found myself struggling against the sheer weight of these stone slabs as I began prying them from their place atop my former companion. Beside me, I heard the roar of a bear and found the stones were falling away at twice the rate they had been before. By a certain time, I could see a glimpse of arcane magic resonating from beneath the stone, and the voice of Proudmoore called from beneath once again.

"Finally, I can lift us out!"

Us?

The others perhaps?

Light be praised that my other former friends had survived this anarchy.

The rubble starts to fall away of its own accord and from the heap rose a spherical arcane orb, undoubtedly enough to fit all the leaders of the Alliance. It hovered pendulously over the both of us and slowly overed to the side of the mound, finally landing on the floor as the dust cleared away with a gust of wind. The clouds settled and the winds calmed as the arcane orb suddenly dispersed and faded into nothing, revealing those who had laid within.

They all stood, cautiously at first but were soon driven by shock and terror of their surroundings, all having their own instinctive response to their current situation. The ladies Jaina Proudmoore and Tyrande Whisperwind were both confused and disillusioned by the destruction that had occurred around them in mere moments, all questioning just how it had happened and what may've been done to prevent it.

Other's had more definite impressions.

"The Keep! We're under attack!" exclaimed Brann Bronzebeard as he readied himself for impending danger, the rest of the leaders following suit. "I see no enemies! Have they left?!" Greymane questioned, Tyrande hastily adding "Who is attacking?! The Horde?!" as she began summoning earthen powers from her palms in preparation. "Anduin!" Gelbin gasped in an uncertain mix of surprise and delight, "What's happened?! We have to find out who attacked us before they can destroy the whole city!"

"The city is already destroyed".

The entire room fell silent.

I could not help but to have no adrenaline in my voice as my colleague have had.

"It is th-"

Before I could finish my sentence, I was interrupted by a sound in the nearby corner of the room, all of our undivided attention upon the source. We witnessed a glowing, purely white like and heard a crystalline sounds, each growing as we watched on and prepared for a potential attack. Thankfully for us, none was to occur as the light slowly faded, leaving a humanoid form that we had all recognised in an instant. A dwarven entity with entirely crystalline features, glowing eyes and a large beard stood before us, though in a less than preferable condition.

"Magni! Brother!" Brann shouted in astonishment, before rushing over to the figure with a mind to offer his aid. But as he neared, Magni raised his hand and waved him to stay away, leaving Magni confused and concerning the rest of us. As we had a spare chance to truly examine Magni, his warning was possibly appropriate considering his visible state. Unlike his typically fluorescent and flawless complexion, his hide had become flawed, dulled and teeming with writhing shadows laying beneath.

"Brother, what's happened to ye?! Are ye alright?!" Brann was beginning to panic, and his fears were not quelled by his spectral sibling's next words.

"Listen friends… I do not have long. I must be quick before… It consumes…" he grunted while retching several times in clear strain. "Azeroth… is dying! The whole world has been infected with the void! The Old… Gods… have… been freed!"

Just as the rest of the leaders had processed what he said and began to feel the necessary fear, they were distracted as Magni's glowing essence briefly faded and slowly returned. "No… she's… in pain! They're… You all have to… save the world! There…. How…" Magni stammered before falling to his knees. "The Old Gods… they're feeding… from the souls of this world. All of them…" he exclaimed in complete disbelief, as if having only learned such dreadful information at this very moment.

"I can't… No, impossible… How…" he strained to speak, "The anger… violence…. Every soul… all are destined… for… damnation… The world will… be… a haven for the Old Gods… all souls… tortured… forever…" Brann, refusing to abide his brother's lonesome suffering, disregarded his warning and sat by his side. "How did this happen?!" Greymane questioned in astonishment, "What caused this?! How could the Old Gods break free?! Why Now?!"

All valid questions.

How have the Old Gods escaped?

How have they taken over the world?

How did they take over the world so quickly?

"Hehheeheheh…"

All eyes turned to Magni as he glanced up towards the rest of us, this voice most definitely not his own. The pain and sorrow in his eyes had vanished, now replaced with a dark and lifeless glare.

"Your efforts have only escalated our success, mortals…" a dramatic and gleefully haunting voice passed Magni's lips, "You have abandoned your salvation for pride and warfare for centuries… and now redemption is unfeasible".

"What are you talking about, creature" Tyrande interjected, earning a mere snort from the dark entity. "No living creature in this world can be salvaged by what light remains… the darkness in their hearts, the will to fight and dominate in their very nature, the lust and hatred that drives their will to survive". It laughed once more before licking his lips in satisfaction, "All to be harvested and consumed for all eternity".

The entity stood and staggered clumsily towards the group "This dwarf is a vessel for us. Just as every void elf had unknowingly allowed themselves to become". "No… you can't mean…" Malfurion stepped back in disbelief and the rest of my friends responded similarly, the gravity and hopelessness of the situation at last truly dawning on them.

"The trillions upon trillions dead from the past sustained our power for eons. We are inevitable, strengthened by the very customs you enforce upon your generations" the Old God taunted, "How can you hope to eliminate us with such faithlessness? So long as the Horde and the Alliance exist, so shall this unavoidable fate". Magni collapsed to his knees as a series of cracking noises resounded across his body.

"So… go forth, mortals… witness the world in its truest form. A world that you had helped to create from its former… heh… 'glory'" the creature pointed at us as small chips of crystal began falling away from his body. "The torture, the pain, the delicious misery and nihilism" it encouraged as a twisted grin formed beneath his flaking beard, "I hope you enjoy yourselves… I know _we_ will".

With that, and a final soul piercing cackle, Magni's body finally surrendered to the strain and, in a dazzling spectacle, shattered and crumbled into a mess of dulled crystal shards.

"Magni!"

Brann was speechless.

By all rights he should have been upset.

He should've cried, wept, at least even hung his head in sorrow.

But instead nothing.

I could see in his eyes only confusion and contemplation, as if trying his best to salve the unanswerable questions that this dark and anguishing event. Had we not been at risk as of this moment, I believe we would've allowed him the chance to mourn his brother's death. But sadly, such luxuries were beyond our reach, I we were forced to lead him away from his brother's remain and make our exit from this decrepit keep.

Through the streets littered with dark creatures and burning buildings, we made our way towards the Gates of Stormwind. My colleagues learned very quickly that any attempt to save the lost soul suffering in the streets proved fruitless, as the entities feeding upon them not only could not be attacked or harmed by any means, but they seemed entirely unaware of our presence and continued feeding. We had truly become witnesses to terror and brutality, but I would argue that it's only because we now no longer had a choice but to witness from now on.

At last, we had managed exit the city and beared witness to what had become of the beloved Elwynn Forest, or at least what remained of it. Wilted grass, corrupted plant life and withered tree trunks littered the hollow landscape. Replacing the lush and lively green vegetation was now as sickly black and foggy expanse, death and decay spreading throughout the land and undoubtedly claiming the lives of the critters and wildlife that once called this land home.

"How much of this… the whole world…" Tyrande stammered as she stood on the verge of hyperventilating, tears welling in her eyes as she watched this beautiful forest as this malformed mockery. "This can't be happening…" Brann muttered under his breath, "Is this really the end of the world?"

A just question.

I stood silently, unaffected by the dreadful sight before me and my fellow leaders remained awed. Greymane snarled and spoke, "She truly won in the end. Sylvanas has brought our world to an end! If we had jus-"

I couldn't take it any longer.

Within an instant, I found myself towering above an incapacitated Greymane, his nose bleeding from where I had truck him in my blind fury.

"Anduin-"

"I swear…. Greymane…" I hissed between breaths, "If I have to hear that name… one more time…"

But as I prepared to finish my threat, a wave of realisation washed over me, several questions likely finding answers all thanks to the mere mention of a forbidden name. As I stepped away from my handiwork, I glanced down at my hand and saw the blood spattered upon it. Even in my anguish, my actions as of now still pained me and a sense of regret and guilt overcame my rage. Me and Greymane stared at eachother for a few moments before he stood up, shock and what I could vaguely interpret as apology in his eyes.

But before we had to worry about such this, I called "Everyone, listen carefully" and my fellow leaders paid undivided attention.

"The Old Gods have taken over the world, but we never stopped to question why they would wait until now" I explained to them. "Alleria spoke to me right before she had Stormwind City destroyed" I continued as they glanced to eachother curiously, "She confided in me that us finding and killing Sylvanas was all a part of the Old God's plan".

"What are you saying?" Brann enquired.

"It can't be a coincidence. They took over the world after we killed Sylvanas… and I believe there must be one reason for them to do that" I stated with a hand raised, "Something about Sylvanas was stopping them".

"Wait a minute. Let me know if I have this right…" Malfurion interrupted me with his hands in the air, "You're saying that Sylvanas might've had a way to stop the Old Gods? A way to stop all this from happening?" I nodded solemnly, "Yes. The Old Gods would've had no doubts about our efforts to kill her" I said as I hung my head and clenched my fist.

"And like barbaric fools, we opted for hate and vengeance…. Just as they had expected".

"Now hold on, Anduin" Genn stepped in and began to lecture me, "You cannot criticise us for these things. We had every right to our justice after what she had done to us". "Justice?" I retched at the very word as it left his lips, "Do you expect me to believe you killed Sylvanas for anyone else except yourself?" Beads of sweat poured from my forehead as I sneered "All of you?"

Genn was silent, unprepared for my rebuttal. Tyrande however stepped forward and questioned "Well, Anduin… We can't just conclude that what you've said is the case. There's just too many things that don't make any sense". Tyrande waved away some of the putrid fog that surrounded us and continued "How can we be sure that Sylvanas was the reason the Old Gods didn't attack?" Alongside her, Brann added "And on top of that; if Sylvanas had a way to stop the Old Gods, why wouldn't she tell anybody?"

"And why would she do so many terrible things if she had wanted to protect us?" Greymane questioned. "Not to mention…" he shook his head and satisfied himself with his conclusion, "She's dead, so any secret she might've had to help us has died with her".

I was left silent, and all I could do was sigh and answer "I don't have an answer for any of those questions… But it's the best opportunity we have to save the world".

…

…

"Very well" Tyrande bowed respectfully, "But we cannot resurrect Sylvanas with this world corrupted. My magic will be rendered next to useless with all this". "Indeed. And even my holy powers wane as I remain in this environment" I was forced to admit. "So if we intend to resurrect her, we have no means to do so if we don't have our magic" Malfurion stated, the hopelessness in his tone.

My eyes shot open.

"Not _our_ magic".

All the leaders stared quizzically at me.

"We need the _Forsaken's_ magic" I confirmed, slamming my fist into my hand. "If we can reach the Horde, then perhaps the Forsaken and their Val'kyr can use their magic to help us" I continued, "They used shadow and death magic of this kind all the time. They might be able to revive her… or perhaps even allow us to communicate with her spirit".

Even as I said it, the plan seemed extremely elaborate and ridiculous, and I could sense that the other leaders felt the same way.

But in a rare moment of unified ideals, me and the other leaders simultaneously agreed that it truly was the best possible chance we had.

"Very well then" Greymane nodded his approval and the rest of the leaders stood by him. Jaina approached me and smiled, "I can still use enough arcane magic to create a portal for us to Orgrimmar". I felt inspiration filling my formerly empty heart as our plan came together, but Jaina interjected "But be warned. The Horde perhaps suffer a worse fate, and may not be welcoming our presence". I nodded in understanding, "Perhaps, but that is a risk we will have to take".

All in agreement, Jaina began summoning her portal and spent much of her energy as the rip in space hovered and spiralled before us. "I'll go first" Greymane described, gradually shape shifting into his werewolf form as he stepped through the portal.

I could only pray the other Horde leaders are alright.

_**TO BE CONTINUED...**_

* * *

**Sorry this one took so long. I had procrastinated a fair bit, but I'm glad to finally get this out so I can move on to the later chapters.**


	4. Final Preparations

**Chapter 4: Final Preparations**

From what I had seen through the portal, the situation had not fared much better in Orgrimmar.

The Alliance and I took turns stepping into the portal and finally being exposed to the full scene of Orgrimmar's corrupted and dilapidated state. The formerly stalwart buildings and compounds that litters the canyons had since been withered and distorted, the wood and stone having bent and shifted at unnatural angles by the curse of the void. Even the very sands of the desert had become discoloured from their usual golden-orange hue; naught was spared from the life-draining power that had swept the planet.

I had glanced behind where we had exited the portal and saw the remains of the entrance gate, collapsed into a mound of debris and entirely impassable from either direction. I considered it safe to assume that whomever was inside Orgrimmar at the time of the global disaster would remain trapped inside, though their condition since then would be determined only by possibly encountering them.

Strange is that unlike Stormwind's over-abundance or invincible dark creatures and ravaged corpses, Orgrimmar seemed completely deserted. It was as if nobody had roamed this ground in hundreds of years. I began to wonder if there was perhaps a reason for their absence here, or perhaps we would now find Stormwind vacant since we had left.

"Well…" Tyrande spoke up as we wandered the empty landscape, "It seems we must venture inwards through the Drag if we have a chance to find them". Mekkatorque spoke up and admitted "I've not seen this Horde capital in the years I've served the Alliance. What regions lie here?" Malfurion held his chin with his hand and hung his head in thought, "Well, there are the Valleys of Honour and Wisdom, but also the Cleft of Shadow within the heart of the capital".

I took my chance to step in and offer my thoughts, "I suspect that if there's anywhere that we will find the Horde leaders, it will be the Cleft of Shadows". All the leader offered their attention to me as I explained "It is a region previously inhabited by warlocks and necromancers of the Horde, but it was also a well-fortified enclosure with only two entrances. Both easily barricaded".

After a brief discussion amongst the leaders, we finally agreed to my plan and began to venture through the Drag. Much like before, it was eerily vacant and quiet, mothing but the slight whisper of the haunting winds and the faint aroma of decay in the air to welcome us. The air chilled me to the bone and my colleague seemed to grow restless and anxious as we neared the entrance to the Cleft of Shadow, only to find the entrance completely open.

"This can't be good" Genn muttered as we gazed into the foreboding darkness of the cave's yawning entrance, "Perhaps they are hold up somewhere else". "Perhaps so" I nodded in understand, "But even then, we must check to make sure". I stood at the front of our group and carefully journeyed into the Cleft, the darkness swallowing us as we neared the main hovel that the horde had resided to practise their dark sorcery.

As we neared the looming light of the central chamber, we happened upon the very sight he had hoped to see.

Orcs.

Trolls.

Tauren.

Blood Elves.

Goblins.

And of course the Forsaken.

Likely having resided within the Cleft of Shadow at the time of this apocalypse, a small collection of refugees resided within the cavern. We stepped towards the corner of the caverns entrance in hid within the shadows, remaining cautious and taking our time to watch them. We could not be sure of what the Horde have endured and what state they are in at this time, physically or otherwise.

As we watched, we could here faint traces of a conversation and a familiar light blooming light in a small corner of the chamber.

"…if this corruption spread beyond our land, it might have affected the Alliance lands as well…"

"Be that as it may, but we must find out why this is happening. _They_ might have a solution".

That voice.

Despite what I might've felt at the start of this ordeal, I found the voice of the Former Warchief and his loyal ally to be a welcoming sound.

If they had intended to leave for Stormwind, apparently by portal according to the glimmering light circling nearby them, it was perhaps best to meet them before they wasted their trip.

I stepped forward from the wall and quickly approached the lower levels from where they resided, steadily descending the pathway down. I could hear the cautious shuffle of footsteps following me, my allies not seeming to be as enthusiastic about this meeting as I had become. We rounded the nearby tent and followed through to the clearing of the chamber, finally finding the consultants we had been watching.

As I had suspected, two Horde Leaders stood before a spiralling portal. From what I could now see from a much clearer view, they had in fact intended to head for Stormwind in spite of the corruption visible through the portal's opening.

"Thrall!" I called.

The two Horde leader paused and fell silent, turning to face my direction and I neared them. The other Alliance leaders followed my lead as the other Horde citizens watched us, silent and inscrutable. But unlike the ominous blank stares we had been welcomed with by the other Horde, Thrall's face was filled with pure relief. He exhaled and furrowed his brow in curiosity, him stepping towards me as I finally stopped before him and his consultant Eitrigg.

"Anduin. We had just prepared to leave for Stormwind" he explained, "You arrival could not have been more timely". I began to raise my hand and was about to salute before I quickly stopped myself, greeting "Likewise. We have much to discuss".

But as I was about to continue, I paused and looked about at the Horde Spectators, and I felt it nessicary to ask "Where are the _other_ Horde Leaders?"

Thrall and Eitrigg looked at eachother before glancing to a nearby tent, Thrall pointing and stating "Lor'themar and Baine are in that tent, but they have many great wounds". Eitrigg added "They shall heal in time, but they will need to rest for now". I glanced at the tent for a time before I replied "I understand. Unfortunate, I must admit. They would want to hear what I have to say".

The other Horde citizens abandoned their activities and encircled us, listening in as I began "Firstly, I assume that there are Necromancers amongst us?" I looked around and caught a glimpse at several hooded undead standing at attention, all saluting in response. One stepped forward and I immediately recognised him, Faranell bowing respectfully as he greeted "I and the Apothecary Society are at your service".

"Very good" I answered him, "We will have a great use of the Forsaken's knowledge of dark magic for what we have planned". Just as I was preparing to elaborate for the evidently intrigued Horde, a thought came to mind and I felt the need to ask "Out of curiosity, where is Nathanos?"

At the very utterance of the name, Saurfang grunted with disrespect and answered "We had him locked away for his support to the Banshee Wench. We had been discussing his fate when this all happened". Thrall hung his head and sighed "Undoubtedly, he is either still imprisoned in the Valley of Honour or he is amongst the dead consumed by this dark corruption". Eitrigg stepped forward and added "Not to mention Sylvanas's Val'kyr have gone missing since her death, and we haven't yet learned of where they'd gone or what happened to them".

My blood warmed as I pinched my nose in irritation, but I forced myself to calm as I got back to the original conversation. "Everyone come together and listen closely. There's a lot to explain and we cannot be sure how much time we have" I proceeded, "It has a lot to do with you former Warchief and the Old Gods". Wary glances were traded but their attention remained undivided from my words, pushing me to continue.

Several minutes passed as I offered my explanation to the Horde and it was offered with little complication. The Horde were much more compliant that I had expected, but the occasional question or sceptical remark was exchanged. I explained the death of Sylvanas, my defection from the Alliance, the meeting with Alleria and the Old Gods, and my conclusion as to Sylvanas' actions. I could sense the unease in not only the Horde but the other Alliance leaders as well, as my words possibly made more sense they anyone would want them to.

"How can you be sure that Sylvanas can be revived, and that she will help us if we do revive her?" Thrall questioned, with Farnell adding "And how can you be sure that her spirit will not be corrupted by the Old Gods when we reach it". "Honestly, and this may sound ludicrous when I say it…" I prepared my answer, "But every question you may ask about this plan will likely be met with the same and only answer I have. 'It's our best option'".

Thrall exhaled and closed his eyes in deep thought, only to open them again at the sound of rustling from the nearby tent. He glanced at the open flap of the tent and saw the welcoming sight of Baine stepping through, holding his stomach and arm close together as Lor'themar followed after him. "Baine. It's good to see you have recovered" I greeted, Baine staring at me for a moment before offering a respectful nod.

"We had overheard what you had said and what you have planned" Lor'themar explained. Baine stood as upright as he could as Lor'themar added "Whatever our own opinions on the matter, if you plan to leave soon then I and Baine had done what we can to join you whenever you have prepared for departure". Besides my concern for the wellbeing of the two leaders and the other Horde citizens, I held reluctance for so many citizens to join us in our venture.

But these things would have to be solved later.

"There is one more thing I need to mention" I declared, "If he is still alive, bringing Nathanos with us may greatly aid our odds". Thrall paused in contemplation, likely coming up with every reason to decline. "I suppose he was close to Sylvanas, and he may convince her to help" I was surprised to hear him reply, "We must hurry though. He may be in danger". I nodded in agreement and hastily waved our gathered observers together, leading them as we made our way up the slope and out the entrance into the Drag.

But as we had the entrance to the valley of honour in our sights as we left the Cleft of Shadow, we were halted by an unexpected sight.

The once empty and ominously quiet streets had suddenly become abundant by vague humanoid shapes, shifting and morphing as they traversed the sands with evident aimlessness. "The hell? Void terrors?" Thrall questioned as he tightly gripped his hammer with moth hands, but I held my hand in his direction to stall him. "Wait" I whispered as my brow furrowed, my eyes trying desperately to make sense of the anomalous forms that roamed the landscape.

As they neared us, it all suddenly became clear.

Much to my pained heart.

Shambling helplessly were hundreds of souls, all of those who had been slain and consumed by the Void and their dark powers.

I felt sick to my stomach.

But whatever I had felt for their sorrow, it was clearly unequal to the sheer horror of my orcish colleagues.

"No…"

Thrall stumbled to a nearby ghost and reached out to them, and I couldn't help but feel an instinct to pull him away from the earie entities and what danger they may pose. But before I could reach him, Thrall proved my effort unnecessary as his hand passed straight through the ghost's body. The spirits paid us no heed, just as that shadow fiends had hours before whilst they fed on the spirits. Thrall stepped back and held his hand to his chest, fighting back what was either a bloodcurdling roar or a stream of tears in his eyes.

From my left, Faranell approached me and tapped my shoulder to get my attention. "With the right spell, we can communicate with these spirits". I turned toward thrall who returned my glance, before breathing deeply and calming himself. "We have no time" I was pained to say, "We must get to Nathanos before anything else happens". The rest of the leaders all nodded to eachother and we continued our lengthy journey to the Valley of Honor.

It must be admitted, the presence of these benign corporeal beings had not made the journey any less atmospheric, but we ignored them as we neared the Ring of Valor. "What the arena?" I questioned as we approached the entrance. "We have cells to contain animals for battles. They used to be for containing prisoners of war, back when the Horde watched prisoners fight for entertainment". As interesting as it was, I was alienated by Thrall's sudden enthusiasm to reflect on such a grim history.

We ventured into the bowels of the arena and passed by various empty cells, Nathanos likely the only person to actively be locked in here as a genuine prisoner.

I glanced to my left as we neared the final cell in the chamber, and we all stopped outside the cell door to stare at its occupant.

There he was.

Garbed in a black shroud, his head hanging forward in exhaustion.

His arms and legs chained tight against the walls, forcing him to sit on his knees with his hands outstretched to either side.

"Nathanos" I called as Thrall pulled the cell for open, the only response from him being a slight tilt of his head and a black stare. "…" he wordlessly lecture our very presence, "Is this some kind of insidious joke?" We remained silent as his growled under his breath, sneering "It makes sense that you all would wish to be here to see it". He fully raised his head to curse our souls with a mere flicker of his searing glare, "Very well. I'm prepared to face your punishment for my loyalties".

"Calm down, Nathanos. We're here to release you" I explained as swiftly and punctually as possible, "We need your help".

With a slight raise of an eyebrow, his eyes followed me as I approached his chain cuff. "You? Needing _my_ help?" He hung his head and snickered audibly, "The world _must_ be coming to an end!" We all paused and traded silent glances with eachother and I had to fight the urge to visibly cringe, "It's ironic you should say that".

I and the other Horde leaders set to work breaking his chains and unlocking his shackles. Now free from his bindings, Nathanos stood and gripped his wrist where the cuff had once been, huffing to himself as he met my gaze. "'Ironic'…" he contemplated for a second, "You can't be serious that the world has come to an end!" He shrugged and shook his head, visibly perplexed as he added "And you need _my_ help to save it?!"

"There is far too much to explain" I stated flatly, "But suffice it to say that it has much to do with your Queen Sylvanas".

I was astonished by what I saw as I said this. Just the mere mention of her name, and I felt like I was talking to a completely different person. That was truly the most life I had ever seen in the Forsaken ranger's eyes.

"We will explain everything in time" Thrall spoke up as we looked out from the cell into the chamber, "But we must leave for the Undercity as soon as possible". "The Undercity?" Nathanos questioned to himself as we all awaited Jaina to summon her portal. I took it upon myself address Nathanos personally and explain "Sylvanas might be what saves us all. Do with that what you will". He placed his hand against his chest as he hung his head and huffed longingly, "To see my Warchief one last time would be all the world to me".

Finally, after a moment, a Light flashed from Jaina's hands and a portal opened before us, the dark and murky lands of Tirisfal glades and the ruins of Lordaeran lying in view from the other side. "Once we enter, we have to navigate to the Royal Chamber" I instructed, "With any luck, her spirit will already be there waiting for us". With a nod from my colleagues, I took the first step through the portal.

"Please, light be praised, may she help us".

* * *

**Yeah. A bit of a filler chapter, since I just needed the Horde and Alliance together for the next chapter. I might add stuff to this chapter later but for now I prefer it's shortness so it can get to the points quicker.**

**Next chapter is where things will get interesting again.**


	5. The Scene Of The Crime

**Chapter 5: The Scene Of The Crime**

I feel like a criminal.

From where I stand, from the company that I currently keep.

And especially from the deeds of the past.

I cannot deny this feeling and where it has stemmed.

This is the closest I have ever felt to being a villain. The villain of my own life story and the story of the world; the universe.

And now here I am. Me with my band of miscreants.

Returning to the scene of the crime.

There have been many times in my life when I have felt conflicted in my actions. I have considered myself a coward, weak, underhanded.

But never outright evil.

Not like now.

I had spent and moment taken in the surrounding environment as the Alliance and Horde leaders made their way through the portal behind me. As they each stepped through to the realm before them, they each shared the same inscrutable attitude. All of them sharing plain and lifeless glanced at the ravaged land before us and all of them silent as the grave. I could sense as I looked into each of their eyes; all hollow with no response to their situation.

Perhaps as we ventured into the Undercity would the weight of the situation begin to dawn on them, and perhaps the implication would finally have a lasting effect on their ways.

Or at least that's the most I can hope for them.

I paused in my thought process for a moment. "What am I saying?" I thought to myself with my face turned and hidden from view of my companions, "You judge them for their actions, but you are just as responsible by doing nothing to stop this". The swirling thoughts in my mind drove me to shake my head and furrow my brow in concentration; a fruitless effort to banish these unproductive ideas.

"Boy!"

I spun around to see the rest of the group, amongst them and staring at me being Nathanos. "If we're gonna bring Sylvanas back, we're gonna need to start being a bit hasty!" Rude and arrogant, but I had no choice but to agree with him. Even as the rest of the leaders scowled at him and Genn even pushed him back, I waved my hand and called to the group "He's right. We have to get moving!" I scanned the group in search of a certain mage, before I finally caught a glimpse of blonde hair and dulled blue eyes.

"Jaina. Are you ready?" I asked fervently, receiving only the slightest nod from her as stepped forward and accompanied me. We walked together as everybody else followed closely behind, moments passing before we finally stopped before the entrance of the infamous Banshee Queen's lair. Once a home to both the living and the dead, now a toxic and uninhabitable realm of poison and shadow.

I addressed the Horde and Alliance with a slight turn of my head as we faced the dark entrance, "Remember. Stay as close together as possible. We will be moving swiftly and I can't have any of you left behind". They all nodded to eachother with the occasionally murmur, and I gave Jaina a permitting nod. We all cleared away from her as she prepared casting her spell, her eyes having the most life in them than I've seen in a long time. I could tell her satisfaction to be using her powers to such a grand level. All around us, arcane symbols glowed brightly and we could ourselves surrounded by an enclosed arcane dome.

As Jaina concentrated on maintaining the dome, I exclaimed "Keep In mind. There is only so much air in this dome, so we'll need to hurry if we expect to reach the Royal quarters". I appreciated the silent nods I received as none were foolish enough to waste any of the air we had. With our goal set and the stakes laid out before us, we carefully ventured into the dark and foreboding bowels of this festering corpse of a city.

* * *

The mist of foul green plague had hindered our efforts somewhat, masking many of the doorways and exits and causing us to lose our way several times. I was thankful that Jaina and the rest of us had remembered our away around this sprawling maze of macabre architecture, and everyone was still true to their promise of silence. Before too long, just as we had barely begun to struggle for breath, we had reached the safety of the royal chamber, just as we had left it.

All the while that we had travelled down here, I had been taking the time to study my colleagues. I could sense what they had felt and what they wish they could say, simply based on their faces and their walks. Most of the horde had been benign, Thrall seems cautious, Nathanos was more concerned than I had ever seen him, and the Alliance leaders had all shared the same sceptic expressions. As soon as I saw this impatience in the eyes of the worgen king, I instantly began dreading the moment we found more air to speak.

As Jaina's portal dissipated and the mage paused to regain her lost energy, all of us took our chance to catch our breath. Once enough of the freshest air that this dank underground fortress could offer was in our lungs, we were ready to continue. I could see eyes focus on me as I gave him a brief glance, and I decided to get the inevitable hassle out of the way as soon as possible.

"I can tell you've had something to say Genn" I groaned, "Please make is something I want to listen to". Genn huffed indignantly at my manner, grunting "Anduin, even you must realise just how ludicrous this is". I sighed and lectured "You've spent the time we've been in this mess. What new do you have to say about Sylvanas and how she's wronged you?" I clenched my fist and raised my voice to the rest of them "Same for all of you. If any of you have complaints to make about this mission, say it now so we can move on!"

I don't care how I looked to the others; and based on the concerned and irritated gazes from them, I had come to believe they had not the best opinions of my newly cynical attitude towards them.

"Anduin!" Genn growled, "You have _no_ right to lecture _us_". He stepped towards me and gripped my shoulder firmly, "We had all come together once against a single enemy, and now everything we have done has been turned against us!" His grip tightened as he curled his lip, "Everything that we had believed in has been for nothing, so don't you dare criticise us. You have in clue what-".

I immediately slapped his hand away and pushed him off, sending him stumbling into the rest of the group. I shook with rage and my teeth clenched, my eyes glaring daggers toward them. "_Your_ beliefs?!" I was on the verge of yelling before I suddenly fell silent, even beyond my own control. I found my blood cooling beneath my skin and I cleeks dragging my lips into a menacing grin. I hung my head and stared silently at my colleagues.

"I shouldn't have to remind you…" I calmly explained, "…that every living creature that has ever died are currently suffering in the void". I choked back a laugh as I continued "Heroes, innocent civilians, tortured victims, everyone. All paying a punishment they don't deserve". I shook as I stepped towards Genn, "And I saw the proof myself. The Old Gods showed it to me".

I clenched my fist once again and pointed my thumb towards my chest, "They showed me my parents…"

Whatever stern or even semi-aggressive expressions they wore immediately disappeared.

"Yes… _they_ were there. My father…" I chuckled, "He was being strangled by thorned vines, begging for help as I could only watch him. The man who saved so many lives, now suffocating for all eternity". I saw Jaina about to approach me when I continued, "And my mother, who raised and never hurt anyone in her life. She was being strangled along with him". Jaina paused and backed away, and I finished "I don't think any of you realise the weight of our situation! My parents have been suffering, and so many other have been as well!"

I suddenly shot a finger at Jaina and hissed "Uther and Tyrion had been serving the light for their whole lives. When was the light gonna tell them that they would suffer in the void for their services?!" My finger shifted to Thrall as I added "So many wars fought so that one side or the other could live safe lives. Think of all the lives that were cut short in those wars? All the lives sent to suffer in the void because _we_ ordered it!"

My finger slowly left Thrall and landed on Genn, and I held nothing back.

"And in case you still remember him and what he means to you, Greymane" I growled, "You're son Liam has been spending these past years in unending torment". I could see Genn's unease but it only encouraged me, "Think about what he did for you… Think about how he's been rewarded for it! Think about what you've done with his memory!"

I had finished, but the leaders had been left completely speechless. They had so many thoughts reeling in their minds and could not decide how to feel about what I just did. But before they could finally decide on anger and possible violent intentions towards me, I calmed myself and calmly addressed them.

"Look. I understand just as much as the rest of you how important this mission is" I admitted, "But it's like I said, we have no plan and this is the best option we have to fix all this". I furrowed by brow and glared, "And if any of you have a problem with that and wanna give up, then I won't stop you". I held my hands up and emphasised the surface above us, "You are all free to live out whatever existence you have left in that cesspool of madness and death that used to be our home".

I turned away and prepared to venture into the chamber and looked back, exclaiming "If any of you want to come with me, then go ahead. But I don't want to hear any complaints". With that out of the way, I wandered into the darkness as my companions remained behind for a few seconds. In truth, I had felt relieved and thankful to hear the sounds of shuffling footsteps behind me, but I refused to go back on what I had said. It had once been in my nature to offer unearned and false praises, but such days will never return to plague my better judgement ever again.

At last, the chamber with the multiple doorways, and by extension, the cursed door that I recalled so vividly in my malicious memories. I gripped the handle and leaned my head in mental preparation, huffing before I pulled the door open. The creak echoed around the chamber and travelled passed my followers through to the far corners of the royal chamber. In spite of the doused torches having expended their light since our last visit here, I ventured into the darkness and left the door open behind me for the rest of our group.

The staircase loomed into view and I reached for the wooden banister, my eyes passing the corner of the wall and landing on the bottom floor of this secret laboratory.

This I don't remember.

I don't recall the floor being black.

I descended the staircase and landed on the bottom floor, carefully minding my way through the large empty room and around the occasional column. I looked to the corner and spotted the charred remnants of a table, where Sylvanas had disposed of whatever she was working on. I suddenly heard the staircase creaking and glanced behind me curiously, finding my colleague arriving on the floor and approaching me. We all stood still and looked around the room, all of the leaders likely having bad memories of this room and what took place at their hands.

I held my hands on oy hips and looked about, before turning to look at the undead apothecary. Once he saw my eyes on him, he stepped forward and gave me his full, undivided attention. "Well, Master Apothecary. This is _your_ area of expertise" I stated, "What's the situation?" He rubbed his chin and walked past me with his eyes examining every inch of the chamber, analysing all the information he could. I spent much time in awkward silence but none of us dared to interrupt him in his process.

"Her spirit is here" he croaked in his strained voice as a mist of cold air was exhaled from his mouth, "And she is close". "Can we see her?" Nathanos inquired from within the group, before frowning at the head shake Faranell gave him in response. "She roams in the void, suffering as the other lost souls do" he explained, "We must perform a ritual to bring her spirit back to this world".

"Heroes!"

All heads twisted to face the direction of the voice calling to us, and we were all met with a surprising sight. From a glimmering light in the wall emerged a pair of luminescent humanoids, a pair of wings flapping in the air as they levitated into the room. I was awed by their sudden return and their apparent presence here, but it seems that Sylvanas' Val'kyr had immediate business with us.

One Val'kyr floated ahead of her partner and seemed to wear an agitated expression on her face, as she exclaimed "I implore you heroes, you must not resurrect Sylvanas". I recall the Horde leaders mentioning these Val'kyr having vanished after Sylvanas was killed, and I was intent on learning why. Their apparent distress over our presence here only ever made it more curious what reason they had been here to find us.

I have never believed in coincidences.

"You!" I heard a croaky voice roar from behind me as the undead ranger pushed past me, rage writhing within his boiling blood and shaking form. "You had abandoned your Queen! My queen!" He accused as venom dripped from his lingering words, "You had betrayed her in her time of need!" "Please, Blightcaller. We have much to explain" the other Val'kyr hovered above us, "But know that resurrecting Sylvanas will prove superfluous".

In spite of my curiosity and my scepticism towards these Val'kyr, I and the leader could not deny the legitimacy of such a claim coming from them. They had every opportunity to resurrect her as they have apparently been known to do in the past, so what reason they had to impede our efforts to save the entire world from damnation had better be good.

"When we had learned of Sylvanas' death here, we had immediately left to come here and resurrect her" one of the winged spectres began, "And we had succeeded in restoring her spirit to the mortal plain". The spectres fell silent for a moment as we awaited them continuing, before one solemnly explained "But when the chance to be restored to life was given to her by our power…" The Val'kyr exchanged clueless glances before they concluded.

"She declined".

What?

"It's true. And she had refused our resurrections ever since then" they stated, "She has adamantly chosen to remain dead and suffer in the void".

This, in no manner, made any sense from any possible perspective I could view it from.

The one thing that Sylvanas had the will to live for was to avoid death, and now she had refused this chance to avoid it?

Why?

And why now?

When she had done it so many times before, why would she not do it now?

What has happened? What has changed that she would refuse this and all future chances to escape damnation?

I found myself doubting the sincerity of this tale these two feminine revenants had offered us.

"Hang on a minute" I heard a deep and gruff voice speak from the group and turned to see Baine stepping forward, "The entire world is at stake, and you are offering this stubborn women a choice to return from the dead? Why not just force her?!" The Val'kyr looked to eachother once again before one explained "We don't want to risk it".

I squinted my eyes and tilted my head, and it seems the Val'kyr had understood the vague and fragility of their claim. "Restoring Sylvanas to life cost the soul of each of a Val'kyr in her service" one specified, "If we resurrect her against her will, the soul sold for it may be wasted as she may immediately kill herself again".

Superstition from the likes of a spectral entity was certainly not to be taken lightly, but their apparent loyalty to the Banshee Queen before now alongside this claim had created a concerning juxtaposition.

"Whatever your intention or your efforts" I spoke up as the Val'kyr offered their attention to me, "We have come her to resurrect her from the Void, and I encourage you not to interfere". I refused to be intimidated by these opportunistic spectres and I was determined to see our mission through to the end. "You would be wise to heed our word and to not threaten us, Lion" a Val'kyr hissed as she held an imposing stance, "Your holy powers have let you".

I would not be swayed; and from the various grunts and shuffles about me, it seemed that my colleagues would not be intimidated by a pair of pessimistic winged spectres. Outnumbering the pair of Val'kyr, they conceded and stated "Very well. We shall leave you to your grim fates, foolish mortals". "But know this" the other spat "Your efforts shall be wasted as ours had been". With these final words of spite, the spectres flew into the air and fainting into an ethereal cloud of smoke and like, leaving us to do as we will in this chamber as we had wanted.

Now with this final obstacle out of the way, this was the moment I had been waiting for since this whole catastrophe had started. I faced my allies and scanned offer the faces to find the Apothecary, before final spotting him and waving him over. "This is it, Faranell" I had stated confidently, "You may go ahead". Faranell nodded and stopped in the centre of the room as I shooed the rest of the leaders towards the outer walls, offering the Forsaken man breathing room as he began his allotted task.

"I will first return her spirit from the void" he said as we cautiously observed him, "We will soon see her as she has been in the Void, so exercise caution when we meet her". Faranell then focused all of his attention on his spells, and time passed as the atmosphere of the entire room started to change. Faranell stopped channelling his magic and hung his arms to his side silently, and none of us dared to make a single noise or movement. The deafening silence clung to us and sought to drain the air in our lungs as we waited for something to happen.

"…ou mons…."

I could every everybody else perk up at the sound of a distance and disconnected voice at the same time I did, now all listening intently for what was being said. Beneath our legs was a looming se of mist washing over and around our legs, the air turning ice cold in a familiar feeling of déjà vu. Suddenly from off in the distance echoed a loud, blood-curdling wail channelling up from the distant tunnel, a freezing cold wind splashing over us as was grew unnerved and anxious. Faranell turned to look as us was a bewildered expression on his features, muttering ominously "There's something wrong!"

Before any of us could react, Faranell was startled and sent stumbling backwards by the sudden appearance of a spectral apparition, spinning and soaring out of control around the chamber. As the creature neared an occupant within the room, they all saw what the entity seemed to be in largely clearer detail. A pair of figured entangled together, vaguely humanoid in form with various portion and segments of their bodies missing from their otherwise consistent forms. The two entities finalllly landed against the floor and sent mist whirling about the room, partially stunning as we regained our focus and finally could see exactly what these entities were.

And what they were only left us even more confused.

If there were only other possible way to describe it that could make more sense.

It was two Sylvanases.

All flawed and missing large portions of their bodies.

One held a vicious and outright bestial scowl on her face as she struggled against her opponent, her blood red glowing eyes fixed on the writhing form of her faltering victim. The put up less of a fight but did not seem scared or upset in the slightest, acceptance clear on her features as she was beaten and strangled by her attacker. I traded confused glances to all the other leader and all returned it, none of us having an explanation or an answer for what was going on.

"Sylvanas…"

The garbles chokes and animalistic snarls of the two Sylvanases immediately fell silent, the two ghostly entities simply remaining as still as ice cold sculptures. Everyone else's eyes fell on the speaker as he carefully approached the pair of spirits, his dark green coat blowing sending the surrounding mist whirling and fading in his wake.

As soon as he stopped, both of the still figures slowly turned their heads and fixed their eyes upon him, their faces blank and their eyes lifeless. After a few moments, Nathanos and the rest of us were witness to a truly strange, and yet fascinating, spectacle. As we watched, the levitating segments of the two Banshees started floating towards eachother and fitting together. I realised that one apparition had all of the segments that the other was missing, even down to a half of a face that we hadn't seen was missing from where she had landed.

At last, the fusion was complete and a full form stood upon from the ground, standing idly as her head hung.

"So what is it to be next, ladies?"

I furrowed my brow quizzically as I pondered what she met.

Not exactly the most elegant or the most forward greeting.

"What promises of riches, love and prosperity do you have to promise me?"

She opened her eyes and they immediately shot open in surprise.

I hadn't doubted that she would expect to see us here again, but even less to see us together once again as we had been when she was slaughtered.

"Oh of _course_ it would be you people" she chuckled to herself for a lengthy period of time, leaving us speechless. But as she continued for an unsettling period of time, her chuckle had devolved into manic cackling as she collapsed to her knees. She wrapped her arms uncomfortable around her waist as her smile grew as large as her spectral cheeks could manage. Black tears spilled from her eyes as she looked up at us, whimpering "Can't you ruthless bastards just leave me alone?! The deep ones can do well enough without your help!"

"Sylvanas, please! We're not here to _hurt_ you!" I walked up beside Nathanos, but Sylvanas shook her head in refusal. "I can't believe that!" she shouted, "I've been suffering for Light knows how long and all I've been able to remember is all of _you_! _You_ bashing me and pounding me into the ground like a tent pole".

"Sylvanas, what are you talking about?" Nathanos questioned beside me, "It's only been a few days". Her unhinged smile slowly fell at these words as she saw no deceit in her lover's eyes, stating quiet for a time before muttering "It felt like years…". Her brow furrowed suddenly and she shot me a dirty look, "Even then, why would you come to bring me back?! It _has_ to be to lose you rage upon me once again!"

"Sylvanas, for the last time, we're not going to hurt you" I insisted, "We need your help!"

She froze in place, a slight smile returning to her face as she focused entirely on me. "Why would you want help from me? You _never_ did before" she reminded us, "And even then, I doubt a mere elven corpse would offer much to you".

This had begun to worry me, and my reaction may have let it show.

Was I wrong?

Did she actually have no plan that could save us?

No!

I refused to give up.

She was probably toying with us, and I hadn't the time for that.

"Look. Warchief" I addressed her and was thankful to see her intrigued reaction to my words, "The entire world has been corrupted by void magic, and the Old Gods have freed themselves from their prisons". Thrall then joined the pair of us and interjected "Everybody's souls are being tormented and fed upon by dark creatures, no matter their culture or their morals!" And lastly, Nathanos concluded with "Azeroth is being corrupted, and the end of the world is imminent!"

Unlike what I had wanted to hear, all I received from her was a short shack of her head, hissing "Good lord… I have only been gone from your lives for a few days… and already you've brought about the world's end since I wasn't here". This attitude began to irritate me, but I feared escalating this matter and stayed on subject. "It's true! And it all started ever since the others had killed you" I clarified, with a slight trace of venom to the other leaders that might help to win her over.

As our conversation continued, I could sense all the colour and energy she had from the start was slowly fading, a sense of lonesomeness and acceptance clear in her attitude now. "We think that something about you was stopping them before, and it might stop them again" I explained. She stared at me for a moment between silent glances at the other leaders, her lingering eyes full of interest and what I could somewhat recognise as delight. It might've been my newly developing ego, but not only did I believe she knew what we were talking about, but I like to think that she may have known that I was the one who had figured it out.

But despite her brief moment of light in her nature, it all suddenly seemed as if it was sucked away from her as she returned to her depressed state. She sighed to herself as she clenched her fist weakly, muttering "I appreciate your faith…" A wave of hope clashed with my anxiety over her ominously soft tone. My fear soon became a reality as she finished, "But I'm not going to help…"

"What?! Why not?" Nathanos exclaimed in complete astonishment, but a broken and wounded upward gaze from those red eyes made it all clear before she even needed to say anything.

"All those…. 'years' of suffering and torment… I had time to think to myself" she described, and I dreaded where this was going. She looked to me and said "You're right… I did know that this was going to happen" as she shut her eyes and exhaled through her nose, "And I was working on a way to stop it".

"Wait a minute!" I heard the gruff and gravelly voice of Thrall speak from nearby us, all eyes turning and landing on him. "If you had known that this would happen and had the chance to stop it…" Thrall spoke, "…then why would you not tell anybody?" Sylvanas was silent for a moment and offered us a judging glare, "Because if anyone else knew about it…. They would kill me and take it for themselves".

As much as the idea disgusted me, I knew it to be a true possibility. Undoubtedly a robbed effort of a pure intention disguised as a miraculous development by the glorious Alliance or Horde.

We were all silent as she elaborated, "I had planned to use it as a way to keep myself alive in case someone tried to kill me". She sighed as she continued, "But I realised nobody would believe me if I had said anything about it the world ending… You would just consider it a bluff and kill me anyway". She clenched her fists for a moment, "I was running out of ideas… But I _never_ stopped and I kept working on my plan".

I could hear murmurs from behind me from all the other leaders, but Sylvanas ignored them. "But then… when I died… when you all banded together to kill me… and I was sent back to the… horrible place" she shuddered at the mere mention, "I had a single question lingering in my head". She looked at me, catching me and the other leaders off guard with her disgusted scowl.

"Why do we deserve to live?" she inquired, "Why don't we all deserve to suffer like this?"

No. No. No. No! No! No! No! No!

"An entire planet full of aggressive and sadistic creatures!" she grunted, "Winged, clawed, toothed beasts all feeding off the land and slaughtering eachother to keep their own lives". I felt the urge to shake her from this trance, but found myself powerless to halt her existential rant. "Thousands of years and millions of generations of wild animals all ripping eachother apart and consuming eachother's flesh, or selfishly tearing the planet apart for their own benefits".

The longer she talked, the more her words started making sense to me; and it terrified me more than any monster from the void. "Why would the Titans build a world like that if _they're_ supposed to be on _our_ side?!" she questioned though her straining voice, "Do the Titans expect us to do this forever if we save ourselves from the Old Gods' punishment?" She shut her eyes and hung her head, preparing her final conclusion.

"We deserve this eternal punishment. Every single thing we have believed in begat evil and chaos!" she huffed as cold mist spilled from her breaths, "And the Alliance and the Horde are truly the worst offenders that can ever exist!" She reopened her eyes and looked up at us as she rose from the floor, standing upright. "So I must ask you all… What makes you think that you are all worth saving" she hissed as her words echoed through the chamber.

"Why should I help any of you, assholes?"

Nobody could speak.

Not even I could think of something to say.

"I didn't think you could answer that" she nodded to herself as she turned away from us, "So if you don't mind… feel free to send me back to the void… you can find comfort that I'm getting what I deserve".

"Wait a minute" I called after her desperately, and was relieved those two smouldering eyes facing me. "Let us prove it" I improvised just so I could think if what to say to keep her attention, "Let us prove to you that we're worth saving. We can convince you that your efforts will be appreciated". "You expect to convince me that this violent world doesn't deserve to suffer?" she inquired, with me answering "The world is imperfect, but there are great things to find in it. I'll prove that to you however I can". She still seemed unconvinced, so I appealed to her by adding "Besides. I'm sure you can spare time away from the void".

She paused and rubbed her chin, contemplating what had been said and what her options had become. I tried by best to hide my beads of sweat and my taxed heart behind my façade of confidence, secretly praying whatever forces of good that remained in the world that I could get through to her. The sight of a small nod and her head turning to me had filled me with more hope and faith than any holy creature's body could contain.

"Very well" she agreed to my offer, "I'll give you a chance". She suddenly soared up into the air and pointed to the lot of us, "I'll give you _each_ a single chance to convince me that you're worth saving". We all watched in awe as she gave her instruction, Sylvanas continuing "You may find me within the next chamber, and there I plan to remain so long as you are all here". All of my colleagues seemed less certain than I was about our odd, and even I had my doubts.

"I want each of you to speak to me, alone and in private" she instructed, "Talk to me and say what you can to make my believe you have the best intentions". She suddenly held up her finger and snapped "But make sure you know what you want to say. Consider your words carefully". She frowned as she added "If you fail or you try to find some other why to force my support, I will refuse to help you".

This was getting serious. I felt like I was in some game.

"I have a lot of enemies in here and many of you have lots of reason to hate me" she admitted, "But I implore you to put that aside and give me, and by extension, yourselves faith that the world can be better than what we've made it into". Despite the frustration I had begun to feel from her vain declaration of control over us, this final sentence brought me back down to Azeroth. "I'll be waiting for you in the chamber now" she said as she slowly drifted into the misty, dark hallways ahead of is.

"May your aims be true".

After she had disappeared into the room, I propped myself with my hands in my knees and gave a distressed sigh. Everybody else behind me seemed to be just as terrified as I was, but that relief cost me much of my faith in our success. The entire fate of the world and perhaps the universe, depending on convincing both Sylvanas and ourselves that we weren't a bunch of irredeemable assholes. We would need to be genuine so that she knew we had good intentions, but this would vary in difficulty for each of us.

Sylvanas' first wait for a visitor would be a long one.

* * *

**Definitely my favourite chapter so far.**

**So yeah, the next chapters will by a bit different. Each one will refocus on the conversations a person has with Sylvanas and what they talk about.**

**I might switch out Faranell for someone else like Helcular or Gunther Arcanus, someone who is actually a necromancer. I also decided not to have Vereesa or Alleria for the adventure early on because I don't think they would have anything to say to Sylvanas. Anything Vereesa would've said is the premise of one of my other stories, and I don't wanna repeat any other stories.**

**Hope you enjoyed as much as I did.**


	6. Jaina Proudmoore's Attempt

**Jaina Proudmoore's Attempt**

The cold, stagnant air clung to the pouring sweat on everyone's brows, and the restlessness had begun to effect on whatever coherent and rational thought remained amidst the mess of hysteria and panic. Everyone in the room with me had been pacing, resting and doing what they could to gather their thoughts, all while trying to supress their anxiety for the potential consequences they face should we fail.

This will undoubtedly be the toughest challenge that all of Azeroth will have ever faced in it's history. Ironic to consider that our world has been ravaged by the likes of hellish demons, corrupted titans, undead plagues, eldritch abominations and alien invaders. And most of all, it has suffered decades of war between two hypocritical races that fought for so long, they had pretty much forgotten what they would do after they had won.

All of this turmoil the world had healed from.

And this was what it came down to.

This would determine the final fate of the world.

Convincing the most pissed off banshee in existence not to be pissed off at us…

…

…

…

My hopes and faiths have never been challenged as they have been now.

Nevertheless, everyone had been deciding who should go first, and who would be most likely to appeal to her in the most genuine way. Despite her history of her allies betraying her, I was lead to consider Sylvanas to recognise a liar from the most minor details. We had considered the things that had angered Sylvanas the most and what company would be best to discuss such matters with her.

And there was little that infuriated her more than the mere mention of a certain name.

The name of the man who killed her.

Arthas.

"Sylvanas is probably more comfortable than ever before to be talking about him" Jaina proposed as she paced back and forth in the middle of the room with us watching. "Are you certain that we want to start our negotiations on what is probably the worst note?" Thrall questioned, likely knowing better than most how Sylvanas would respond to discussing the villainous death knight.

"No" Lor'themar spoke up, drawing everyone's attention as he stood.

"This might be a good idea" he began explaining, "The pair of them share the most history with Arthas out of all of us, and appealing to Sylvanas's hatred for him might help us". Jaina solemnly nodded, but I could tell she had something to say in opposition to the idea. "It would be for the best, if not for one thing…" she confessed as she hung her head, "… I honestly… don't… hate Arthas… even after everything he did".

"And besides" I interjected as they both turned to me, "We're trying to show Sylvanas that we're not hateful. Talking about hating someone might not be the best place to start". The collective sighs of disappointment filled my ears, and a crude mix of satisfaction and despondency. I wish I hadn't dragged the group back to square one, but it was nessicary to ensure we come in with the utmost strength.

"No" Jaina spoke up, "I'm ready to go in to see her". Everyone looked at her with uncertainty, though she explained "Sylvanas will want to know us for who we really are, and she won't want us practicing what to say or she will think we're lying". The leaders were silent as she added "I've wanted to know her for who she truly is… And always have, to be honest…". She nodded to herself in assertively, "Out of all of us… I believe in my heart that she will want to see me first".

I had no rebuttal, and her logic seemed sound enough for the rest of the other leaders as well. With our blessings and our prayers, we have given our permission and she prepared herself for the encounter. With a nervous breath, she entered the dark chamber as we watched on, her form slowly disappearing into the darkness as we remained to bide out time and await her return.

Jaina gingerly entered the foreboding chamber, shook by the darkness and the current absence of the infamous elven spirit. She had suspected that Sylvanas was watching her from somewhere outside the chamber, but the uncertainty of it all started getting to her. The mist tossed and swirled elegantly like a white ocean in a black void.

But soon, the mist began behaving strangely, gravitating towards the ceiling as a faint light descended into the chamber. Though the ominous glow, Jaina could see a humanoid figure slowly emerge, finally becoming the Banshee Queen herself. She was staring at Jaina with a curious look, likely intrigued by the fact that Jaina had gone first. But the pair new not to dwell on such irrelevant matters, and Sylvanas was ready to begin the negotiations.

"It's curious" Sylvanas remark in a soft tone, "You and I almost share a kindred history". Sylvanas held paced slowly toward Jaina and passed her left, "And yet this is the first time we have properly met". Jaina had a clear idea of what she was referring to, and she had to admit that it was rather strange that they hadn't regarded eachother in any fashion despite the events of the Third War. "I suppose our story was never meant to be shared beyond a common enemy" Jaina shrugged indifferently, wanting to maintain a calm exterior for as long as she could.

Sylvanas paused and tilted her head to the side as she looked upon the blonde mage, "I would've once made it a point to avoid familiarity with my enemies and their associates. No offense". "Um… none taken I suppose" Jaina awkwardly complimented, somewhat unprepared for Sylvanas' uncharacteristic regard for manners. But as she considered this, Jaina was startled by Sylvanas passing behind her, before stopping abruptly. It made Jaina feel like a soldier being assessed by a drill instructor, a life she had personally feared and avoided for her whole life.

"But that doesn't mean I've been blind to your actions and their effects" the undead ranger hissed.

And now it has begun.

Jaina hung her head and was silent, contemplating what to say next. Unlike what she had semi-expected, Sylvanas waited patiently for her response. Jaina felt like she owed her for this courtesy.

"There are a number of things I regret... and would take any opportunity to take back" she confessed, and she likely wore her welling guilt on her face as Sylvanas regarded her. "But as time goes on…" she continued as her tone darkened, "I begin to question if enemies I've made since then… _deserve_ that courtesy at this point". Sylvanas gave a soft, short laugh before frowning with her eyes gently shut.

"I understand that feeling" she confessed solemnly, "There are a hundred times where I wish I had done something differently". It alienated Jaina to hear the great and terrible Sylvanas speak so remorsefully and criticise herself as she had. The banshee clanged her fist half-heartedly, "But it's almost as if… the world could've been anything beyond _one_ destiny". She looked towards the young mage with vulnerable eyes, "For all of us".

Jaina, somewhat confused, asked "What makes you say that?"

Suddenly, Sylvanas began pacing the room with a burst of fervour, muttering aggressively "It feels like nothing good was ever planned for me, and there was nothing I could do to change that". She swung her arm as it cut through the mist, like a blade slicing flesh. "People within the Alliance have become accustom to a single idea" she spat, "If it's used against _me_, then it's not evil". She stopped and turned to point at Jaina with glowing, expectant eyes, "You cannot tell me that you have not noticed such things".

Jaina was left speechless.

This was the first time in this whole conversation that had no clue what to say.

And adhering to her plan, she decided that the best response was an honest one.

"I have no comment" was all she could say.

The banshee simply shrugged in response, shaking her head and muttering "No matter". Jaina remained silent as Sylvanas continued, "You haven't put in the most effort to avoiding the same attitude… but you still escape judgement for your own ill-doings". She gestured to herself with a pointed spectral finger, "But me… there was nothing I could do to make up for the things I did, and nobody wanted me to try. They won't forget what_ I_ did like they forgot what _you_ did!" Her arm limply dropped her side and Jaina was greeted with an unnerving smirk, the undead queen sneering "And they were very quick to forgive you… it seems almost… disingenuous".

Jaina's eyebrow raided confusedly, "Disingenuous?"

Sylvanas tilted her head and elaborated, "Yes, Disingenuous. Here meaning 'It was out of convenience of the situation that you were welcomed back so warmly, because there was already someone everyone was angry about'". She raised her pointed finger at the stiffened human sorceress, growling "If I hadn't already been everyone's lightning rod, you would not have been regarded nearly as graciously".

Jaina's eyes widened in realisation and immediately responded with appointed finger and stern look, "I know what you're saying… and it's not true". She swung her arms outward dismissively and clarified "I've only ever done what I think is the right thing to do" with rugged breath and a shivering form, "I regret much of it now and I look back on my mistakes with disgust". She sighed and composed herself, "But that's all they've ever been… mistakes".

Sylvanas wordlessly gazed upon the visibly stressed sorceress and sneered, "Oh no. It goes far beyond that… at least from what _I've_ come to learn". Jaina once again was left confused by Sylvanas's vague statement, but Sylvanas was quick to explain what she meant. "I have a confession to make" Sylvanas said, "The truth is… I had spent much of my time as the banshee Queen studying and learning about Arthas and Lordaeran history". Jaina's eyes narrowed suspiciously as Sylvanas clarified "I learned a lot of Arthas' history. I was looking for ways to hurt him or bring him down". Oddly, Sylvanas seemed to grow rather timid as she rubbed her hands together, "I had often considered using _you_ against him… but would always decide against it".

Jaina should've had every reason to feel terrified, having been considered for such a disgusting ploy and having her personal life violated for such reasons. But instead, she couldn't help but wonder if working with Sylvanas against Arthas may have been for the best. She didn't have time to consider this for long, as Sylvanas spoke once more.

"Do you remember the destruction of Stratholme?" She inquired somewhat cattily, "Truly you shining hour, I must say". As the ghostly ranger chuckled at the expense of the baffled mage, she continued "Admittedly, I would've agreed with what Arthas did… had I not known what would come of it". She turned away from Jaina and folded her arms with her head tilted back, "Which is more than I can say for your decision".

"What? I wasn't even there" Jaina corrected, only to be silenced by a suddenly turn of Sylvanas's head and a pair of glowing red eyes piercing her soul. "That's my point!" she spat viciously, "Arthas, your beloved man, was angered and confused. But he was going to do the only thing you could do!" She sifted towards the flustered mage, lecturing "But when your lover would've need you most. When he had only one chance to be saved from his resulting fate! What did you do?" Jaina was left without a coherent thought in her head, unable to answer before Sylvanas answered for her.

"You ran away".

Jaina froze.

Her heart ceased to beat for what seemed like a thousand years.

She felt the intense urge to collapse forward. Whether to hurl or to gasp for air, she couldn't tell.

Ran away.

Ran away.

It was such an ugly way to describe what she did.

Before she had realised it, Jaina realised she had fallen and rested uncomfortable atop her kneeling legs, trembling with her arms folded in her lap. Sylvanas leaned down and stared coldly into her eyes.

"Think of all the things you could've prevented then and there. Arthas becoming the Lich King, the murder of his father…" she stated before pausing for a moment as her words got caught in her throat, "Him killing me… and my people". She inhaled sharply and clenched her fist, but her growing twisted smile offset her apparent frustration. "It's pretty safe to say that something could've happened at some point around that time that could've prevented all that " she muttered, "It's almost as if everything that happened to me and Arthas is entirely-".

"My fault" Jaina spoke softly, almost meekly.

Those painful eyes. Poisoning her spirit and sucking all the warmth from her flesh.

Is this how it feels to be Forsaken?

"Every ally you have ever made, you have turned your back on at one point or another; your father, the Kul Tirans, your beloved Arthas, Dalaran's arcanists, and even the entire Alliance during the Legion's invasion! The moment they needed you the _most_!" Sylvanas's voice rose as she listed these example before softening. "And not once… not a single time in all your life have you ever needed to compensate for any of that!"

In a burst of anger, Jaina slapped her lap and sprung to her feet, yelling "And what about the people you've turned your back on?! What treacheries have you compensated for?!"

…

…

…

Why did she say that?

This was not helping.

But it was too late. Sylvanas had already processed what she had just heard, and Jaina had never felt more scared for what would happen next.

"You call me a traitor, do you?" Sylvanas looked genuinely offended, this moment of rage rivalling even her most unbridled grudges and hatreds. She spoke through clenched teeth "The Alliance really have poisoned your mind, haven't they?" She drew a deep breath and barked "I… have never… betrayed anyone! Not in my life… not in my undeath… NEVER!" This final word had knocked Jaina backwards and almost off her feet with its sheer force.

"But…" Jaina stammered nervously, "You… must have…"

"If I were even _half_ the monster you think I am… think of what would've happened?! Think about that, you pathetic little girl!" the enraged ranger exclaimed. "The Sin'Dorai would've been left to starve and suffer… The Horde leaders would've been left to die at the Broken Shore" she declared, "I was even willing to put faith in Garrosh when others had sought his removal from power". Sylvanas frowned as she glared at the terrified mage, "You see, little girl. I do not like the Horde, I do not respect the Horde… But loyalty is _everything_ to me!"

…

…

…

"So tell me, wise and courageous sorceress" Sylvanas sneered sarcastically, leaning into the defeated Jaina's face. "Was turning against the Horde even your own intention from the start?" Sylvanas questioned, "Or was it done to appease those Alliance warmongers and to… 'Protect yourself from responsibility'?"

…

…

…

It was over.

There was nothing left to say.

Nothing she could say to salvage the conversation.

Sylvanas' opinions were cemented, and Jaina had found herself agreeing with them for good measure.

Defeated and humiliated, Jaina stood up and turned around as Sylvanas' patiently watched on. She was definitely not excited to explain her failure to the other leader and what would come next, but she held the hop that one of the other leaders would be more successful. Besides, after her recent epiphany and the words of the elven spectre, she felt she had owed herself the repercussions of at least one of her numerous failures.

"Jaina…" she heard from over her should, flinching in fright as Sylvanas stood beside her. "I have a request to make" she said in a hushed tone as Jain's eyes fought back the urge to shed tears. "I would like to see Genn Greymane next" she requested, "I have… _much_ I wish to discuss with him right now". Jaina hadn't the state of mind to question this or consider the problems that may arise from this, and simply offered a slow nod of compliance.

The pair stared at eachother for a short moment, and Jaina found Sylvanas' eyes began to wander over her face and her body. A slight raised eyebrow was Sylvanas only other gesture, but Jaina was too scared of angering the Banshee Queen to move or leave before she was finished. When she seemed to have finished, she looked into Jaina's eyes and offered and small smile.

"That's the _one_ thing I can't blame Arthas for" she said, "You really _are_ quite beautiful".

Without another word, Sylvanas slowly dissipated into the darkness, her form merging with the fog and leaving the dumbfounded mage with a swirling sea of emotions.

* * *

**Just to clarify. This story is taking place in-between the attack on Lordaeran and the journey to Kul Tiras and Zandalar, so the events after Assault on Lordaeran won't be mentioned here because they haven't happened. This also means Jaina's attempt at a redemption arc in Boralus isn't here either, which I'm fine with because it was terrible anyway.**

**Anyway, like usual, I hope you enjoyed reading.**


	7. Genn Greymane's Attempt

**Genn Greymane's Attempt**

We had all been concerned by what Sylvanas had requested, but it could not concern us more than what would likely come of it. She had requested for Genn Greymane, her most enthusiastic and unrelenting rival, to be the second of her visitors. I could feel sweat pouring from my skin and dripping from by hair at the mere thought of what consequences would come of this meeting. I knew in my gut that any and all conversation between these two would end disastrously, and I loathed contemplating whom would lose their patience with the other first.

Genn sat quietly to himself, lost in his thought as he has been since he had learned of the request. I admire that he had been taking this much more seriously than when we had started, as he seemed much more cautious and more aware of the precariousness of our ordeal. I'm glad that what I had said may have finally knocked some sense into him, but I still felt that it may not have been enough.

"Alright" Genn nodded and said allowed before stepping away from the column he had stat against, "I'm going in". As all eyes in the room fell upon him, I could immediately sense that they all wanted to question him and everything that would happen. What had he planned so say, What he was thinking, were his priorities in order, would he control his temper, would he put love in front of his hate. But by the time any of us could work up the courage to say anything, he had already entered the chamber and left us to nervously anticipate his return.

He slowly stalked into the dark chamber and was washed over by a cold and foreboding presence, Sylvanas standing in the centre. From the fervent glance in her eyes, he could tell that she had somewhat anticipated his arrival. But such anticipation felt greatly misplaced considering their circumstances, and Genn was not afraid to state as much in a rather ungracious interlude.

"What is there for the both of _us_ to speak of" Genn questioned cynically, "You don't regret your actions and I don't regret mine". Sylvanas pursed her lips and her eyes remained inscrutable, and Genn could not fathom her reaction to his blunt statement. "You assume much. But you're wrong…" Sylvanas corrected as she exhaled. A think, cold mist surrounded her every breath as she spoke, "I do regret killing your son, and not simply for _my_ sake".

Genn furrowed his eyebrows, "I'm not convinced" he lectured before pausing for a moment. "Not that it makes any difference if I _were_" he added abruptly, falling silent with a look of expectation on his features. Sylvanas and Genn both felt it was nessicary for her to explain herself, but Sylvanas wanted to make sure that Genn would know what she said was genuine. She cupped her hands together and stared off into the darkness of the small chamber.

"I never knew your son, obviously" she clarified, "But that doesn't mean I was ignorant of… certain things about him". Genn tilted his head as his eyes narrowed, "What does that mean?"

"In the short time I knew him… I could understand lots about him" Sylvanas spoke in a soft tone, and not a single drip of deceit could be sensed from it. "He is one of the most heroic people I had seen in the many years I've been a soldier" She explained with sudden exhales as she spoke, as if the mere thought of such a person excited her. "Working with the forsaken and such has had its shining moments for me" she insisted, "But I never realised how much I had missed the sight of a truly honourable and heroic act on the battlefield".

Genn was surprised at how Sylvanas had suddenly begun to gush and offer affection for his son, but he didn't intend on ending it. "He gave up his life, a life he had only started to live, to save even one life" she exclaimed as her tone became slowly more sombre, "What little power he had to do such a monumental deed of kindness". As much as he refused to credit her in anyway, Genn found comfort that Sylvanas, despite killing her son, would honour his sacrifice as she had. "For what _that's_ worth…" Genn began, but fell silent at the sight of Sylvanas' blood red glare.

"He was also a moron" she sneered, "Genuinely stupid and simpleminded".

What the hell?!

Genn's jaw hung open, "What?"

Sylvanas' previous colour and emotion had all but vanished, as if they had never been there at all.

"He never even considered the consequences of his actions. The effects of sacrificing himself for _your_ sake" she informed the perplexed king. "He never considered a future where he never achieved his legacy" she continued, "His legacy of replacing you as the King of Gilneas". Genn's fists tightened as she spat her venomous criticisms, but Sylvanas seemed to notice his welling rage and was less than deterred.

"He would've been better off letting you die" Sylvanas hissed, "And a true prince would've r4ealised it, and not the naive child he was raised to be". She held her arms behind her back as she leaned into Genn's face, "He never could've imagined what you would do and what would be done following his absence". Genn's form quivered violently as his anger reached its peak, allowing Sylvanas to land the final blow. She whispered through clenched teeth, "His impulsiveness and goodwill doomed your people more than any of _my_ efforts ever could".

"Silence! You will not desecrate my son's memory!" Genn shouted, all but forgetting that his roar would echo throughout the chamber for his allies to hear. Unlike his undoubtedly terrified allies awaiting his return, Sylvanas hadn't even flinched.

Sylvanas sneered, "You don't need any help from me, Greymane".

…

Genn thoughts ground to a halt.

"What?"

"Trust the prideful father to be never consider himself to blame" Sylvanas straightened her poster and posed stalwartly. "Your warmongering, your thirst for vengeance… all claimed to be for your young Prince's sake" she spat as she waved her hand towards Genn in dismissal, "_You_ have done a decent enough job drowning his memory without me". Genn's anger competed with his confusion, unable to see the point that Sylvanas was trying to make and how his services to his dead son could be anything but pure.

Genn held his hands in the air, "I have no idea what torments have driven you to such lunacy". Sylvanas grimaced as her unblinking stare entrapped Genn's own gaze. "Do you genuinely believe I am wrong in seeking justice for my dead son, and the loss of my homeland?" Sylvanas was quiet for a moment, but Genn could tell that she already had her answer.

"Of course not!" Sylvanas exclaimed, as if she herself was offended by being equated to such a proposal. But this was short-lived as she specified, "I believe you are wrong in everything else you've done ever since".

It was Sylvanas' turn to get mad, and all fear of the stakes were abandoned. "You tried to kill me in Stormhiem, without anyone's permission to do so!" she growled, "And then you left your allies behind to do all your dirty work for you and spent all your time chasing me!" Genn stepped back as Sylvanas floated towards him, "You were at war with the legion, Greymane! And you risked letting the world burn just so you could screw me over!"

The air thickened as the two enraged rivals looked upon eachother for a moment.

"You should be thanking me for sparing your son from witnessing what would happen next" Sylvanas demanded, "I would hate to think how you would repulse him with what you've turned into, Greymane!"

"You dare!" Greymane snarled in a low tone, "My son would've lead my people to a glorious future! Everyone knew he would!"

Sylvanas slowly shook her head, an ominous atmosphere falling upon the pair once again.

"Your son died at _my_ hands…" Sylvanas stated as her tone had softened greatly, "And now… thanks to you… that's the _only_ thing anybody will remember of him".

Genn's snarl slowly dropped into a perplexed frown, muttering a simple "What?"

"Nobody would've remembered him for what he did for his people" she shook her head, "…what he _would've_ done for his people". She sneered in disgust as her glowing eyes pierced his remaining armour. "You have taken his tragedy and perverted it into fodder for vengeance and warfare" she added calmly, watching Genn bow his head as his body trembled. She slowly turned away and faced the wall, bowing her head and shutting her eyes in aggravation.

You are a terrible father" she spat, "And I pity any in your care".

"GEERAAARGH!"

Throughout the chamber came a loud, guttural roar as Genn leapt up from the ground, now a Worgen and outraged beyond rational thinking. He had leapt at Sylvanas hysterically and swung his claws at her, lusting for her corpse to hang from them as it once had in the past. Unfortunately, as a moment past for his senses to return, it was already too late to fix the grave mistake he had made.

Sylvanas was unhurt, as expected, and Genn has instead bloodied his hand from striking the wall, scratching himself against the rough surface. Clutching his hand and grunting in pain, Genn watched as Sylvanas turned on her heel and gave him an expectant glare. There was nothing let for him to do, and he knew that he had failed in more ways than one.

There was never even a thought to how Sylvanas could rescue the souls trapped in the void. Never a thought to how his son suffered and how this was the one chance he could spare him such a cruel fate. Genn was prepared to beg forgiveness, even fall to his knees and kiss Sylvanas's boots. But they both knew there was no correcting this act. Genn had shown his true nature in more ways than one, some ways even Sylvanas seemed surprised by.

Without a word, Sylvanas hovered towards the ceiling before vanishing into a cloud of mist, leaving the lonesome king to wallow in his grief and guilt. After a time, Genn rose and prepared to leave and join the rest of his group, unprepared to explain how and why he had possibly doomed the world with what he had once considered pure intentions. As he was leaving, Genn heard the chilling sound of Sylvanas' voice in his ear, and the words she spoke only drove the knife deeper into his heart.

"Something is waiting for you, Greymane… And it's not your son".


	8. Thrall's Attempt

**Thrall's Attempt**

Things were definitely not going well for those stragglers.

Sylvanas awaited the next visitors with semi-anticipation, her promise being the only true reason she would still bother to let the heroes speak to her. Her patience in her oaths granted to others have been tested to greater extents than this, in spite of the severity of the situation such others are facing, so a level of leniency she feels is a minuet sacrifice. After all, a brief time to truly understand those who have opposed her before the lot of us would share the same eternally horrific fate was a truly unique opportunity.

The ragtag group of disagreeable marauders had taken little time to decide unlike before, as Sylvanas could already hear the sound of footsteps entering her chamber. Slow, deliberate and fairly heavy was the rhythm of the footsteps, but not loud. Likely not the hooves of a tauren, but nevertheless belonging to a larger, masculine figure. She gently closed her eyes and smiled to herself, concluding who her next visitor would be and anticipated their following conversation.

From the darkness of the chamber, a green figure clad in a pale, cloth garb cautious approached her, their eyes never leaving the others. They stared at eachother with blank expressions, both saving their opinions and thought for the upcoming conversation. She considered this a tedious strategy and broke it immediate with a small grin, slowly growing as Thrall watched in a momentary confusion.

"Well…" Sylvanas began, her tone slow and baring a snake-like hiss, her eyes narrowing as their faint glow reached menacingly for the whites of Thrall's. "What do you think of my handiwork, Thrall" Sylvanas asked, "I assume the ways of the Banshee Queen have me your expectations". She swayed slightly with her arms folded, patiently awaiting a response while Thrall returned her glare.

"There are a many things I have to say about your work… and what it has done" he replied in a low tone, likely withholding his animosity and aggression. He closed his eyes and relieved a slow sight before meeting her gaze once again, continuing "And I cannot pretend to believe they had the best intentions". Sylvanas frowned, slightly surprised at how quick the conversation had soured, before rolling her eyes and curling her lip into a sneer. "So says the source of all this mayhem" she retorted, leaving Thrall silent for a moment to consider her words before she spoke again. "The first great leader of the Horde" she declared dramatically before her tone darkened yet again, "…and the last".

Thrall was caught off guard by this comment, the way it seemed so far removed from Sylvanas' typical attitude. Sylvanas saying that Thrall was a good leader at all, let alone the only good leader the Horde ever had was beyond what he could expect. Or at least that was his initial thought, before he came to a realisation.

"What?!" he shouted in shock, "Your suggesting that Vol'jin would've been a terrible successor? In spite of his sacrifice, no less!" Thrall's brow furrowed as he ranted "Vol'jin has been my comrade in arms! He would have given the Horde a great future". Deciding not to reflect on the irony of this statement, Sylvanas simply shrugged and looked away in reflection. "Perhaps, but we cannot be sure" Sylvanas suggested before dropping her arms to her sides, "Not that it matters now."

But after a moment, Thrall saw Sylvanas's eyes sharpen in focus, an idea evidently coming to her in a moment or realisation. Her eyes slowly turned back towards him before the rest of her head promptly followed, an eyebrow raised as she spoke "Actually, I find the word you used quite interesting" as her hands came together before the concerned shaman. "'Successor'. Not 'Warchief', 'Successor'" she clarified as her hands pointed toward the orc, "That implies many things".

Thrall, sceptical, asked "What do you mean?"

"What was being the Warchief supposed to entail?" Sylvanas questioned, allowing Thrall a glimpse at her genuine curiosity and cluelessness for the first and only time. "Were you allowed to be a leader with your own vision of a future…" she began with her left hand raised before slowly raising he right, "…or just a figurehead for the ways that had already be set by your predecessor?"

Thrall would've been lying to himself if he said he hadn't wondered this on occasion as well, but would always come to the same conclusion that he had come to now. He sighed and answered honestly, "I cannot answer that".

Apparently, this was not what Sylvanas wanted to hear, as her eyes widened and she bared her teeth in revitalised rage. "How can't you?! You are Thrall! You were the first Warchief!" Sylvanas shouted as Thrall backed away warily. "You did so much to get the Horde where it was!" Sylvanas exclaimed, "How can you _not_ know what you wanted the Horde to be?!"

"Because…" Thrall began but suddenly pausing, considering his words carefully. He closed his eyes in resignation as he concluded that his best option was to answer honestly, "I had not expected any of this to happen". Sylvanas remained quiet, simply staring at the shaman in an evident mixed of bewilderment and dissatisfaction. She tilted her head as her mouth fell open briefly before she spoke, "So… you never had a plan".

"I suppose not" Thrall relaxed his posture and sighed in disappointment towards himself. "I never knew what the right thing to do was… but everyone was willing to follow my word" Thrall explained, "And I suppose just that was what kept the horde together". Life fills his eyes once more at his inspirational thought, "I suppose that's what it comes down to".

His hand cupped his chin in thought, "The best leaders don't ever seem to have a clear plan, but they have people that help them come up with one". Sylvanas considered this for a moment with intrigue, before her face returned to the familiar realm of intensity. She spoke in a soft and low tone, "That can apply to the worst leaders, though". The colour In Thrall's eyes faded as he glanced at her quizzically, "What does that mean?"

"Garrosh was bull-headed" she specified as her left hand was held in the air, "But he had the nouse to reject the title before it was dumped on him". She gave a short snicker before she sarcastically declared "I praise him for being aware of his own incompetence". Despite her humour and the slight pleasure she felt at the sight of Thrall's annoyed glare, she found and sneered "which is more than I can say for some".

Thrall exhaled through his nostrils, deciding the best defence was attack. "So where does that place you, Sylvanas? Do you consider yourself the best leader, or the worst?" Thrall lectured. Sylvanas opened her mouth to immediately answer, but soon fell silent and turned away from the shaman. She was lost in thought as she roamed the dark corner of the chamber, before answering half-heartedly "I'm honestly not sure". She turned to face Thrall again.

"On one hand, I did have a singular goal, and a lot of ready allies to join me in getting it" Sylvanas explained, drawing parallels to Thrall's philosophy. "But at the same time, I had only done it for myself…" she readily admitted as she looked away in deep thought, "…And any benefit the Forsaken or the Horde got was just a fortunate by-product".

But suddenly, she looked at Thrall once again with judging eyes, "How much of that is true for _your_ rule as the Warchief? Answer me that". Thrall was caught off-guard by this question, but found himself with the same answer as before. "Again, I cannot answer that" he admitted but retain his fervour, "I only ever wanted the best for the Horde, even if that meant my absence".

Sylvanas's eyes shot open and their intense red glow flared at these infuriating words, and she yelled "You absence was _not_ what was best for the Horde" and sending the startled Thrall stepping back reflexively. "But you cannot admit that to yourself…" Sylvanas sneered, "Can you, you coward! You never came back because you didn't want people to turn on you because of Garrosh!" She stepped forward and furrowed her brow, "You ran away from your mistakes, just like Jaina did".

Thrall could not believe how ignorant Sylvanas was being at this moment, considering what had occurred at the time of his leaving the Horde. "Sylvanas, you know that I'd left to combat the Hour of Twilight!" Thrall reminded her, "I had greater problems to deal with beyond the Horde".

"That does not excuse you never coming back!" Sylvanas spat back, only infuriating Thrall further.

"I cannot be with the Horde forever!" Thrall justified, "I can't fix every problem the Horde faces!"

"You could try!"

Thrall paused.

Sylvanas stared viciously at the shaman, hissing "I could've never appeased the entire horde. I would've never won the entire horde over!" Sylvanas was trembling from rage, "But I tried!" She swiped her hand through the air manically, "Garrosh tried! Vol'jin tried! And above all, I tried!" She stormed toward the orc until she was mere inches from his face, "That's what makes a great leader, Thrall! They try until the end!" Her ice cold breath clung to the air, "And you were _never_ going to be there to the end!"

Thrall was speechless.

But from aggravation, but of bewilderment.

He had no rebuttal, not because there wasn't one, but that it would not matter.

Whatever his reasons, Sylvanas would not be proven wrong in her claims.

The odds were against him.

But perhaps it would not be a matter.

"I believe we're done here" Sylvanas claimed, though triumph was absent to be found in this conflict and the spectral queen simply turned away. Thrall, defeated, prepared to leave and approached the corridor, before pausing as a thought popped into his head. Something that he had not considered before now, and a fair few puzzle pieces fit together from it.

"It was when you were made Warchief, wasn't it?" he questioned as he turned to look back at the elven spirit. Drawing her attention, Sylvanas mumbled "What?" as she turned to face him. "That's when you knew that terrible things would happen" Thrall inquired with narrowed, suspicious eyes, "That's when you started coming up with your plan, isn't it?"

Sylvanas stared at him without motion, almost statuesque in her stance as she peered at the shaman. "Perhaps, and perhaps not" she answered softly as her gaze turned towards the ground, "You have yet to earn that answer". Unsatisfied with this answer, Thrall begrudgingly conceded and finally disappeared into the darkness, leaving Sylvanas alone with her thoughts. She began to fade into the mist with a final thought on her mind.

"To be so close… but still out of reach".

* * *

**I won't pretend to know everything about the history of WoW's character, and you can trust I will have missed most things from Warlords. So if there is something in the story that conflicts with this, then that's my excuse.**

**Also, I'm coming close to wrapping this tory up, and there will be some encounters that I may simply summarise in the finally story. So if thare is any character in this story that you would want a chapter to themselves, then let me know in the comments and I may consider it.**

**So yeah, a short chapter this time but I hope your still enjoyed.**


	9. Nathanos' Attempt

**Nathanos' Attempt**

The Alliance and Horde leaders were not ignorant to how dire the situation was becoming, and their inability to quell their panic by any means other than patience further frustrated them. One by one, each leader had failed to prove themselves to be more beyond their selfishness and spite, and had thus fallen short of Sylvanas's hopes for a world worthy of redemption.

After Thrall, Genn and Jaina, the list of topics and relevant discussions wore thin. Thrall had been lectured on the management of the Horde, Jaina had been declared responsible for Arthas murdering the elven queen, and Genn's pursuit for revenge had been halted and his thirst for her blood crippled. What more was there for the rest of the group to discuss where they would not repeat the words of their predecessors?

I had considered this form myself for a time after Thrall had returned unaccompanied. But as I pondered who would most likely be best to meet the Banshee Queen next, his thought were suddenly shifted to a realisation. The previous three leaders had discussed things that happened to Sylvanas, but it was all external and entirely situational topics. They discussed things about her, but they didn't discuss 'her'.

A personal edge to the negotiations may be in order, as it would maintain legitimacy and would perhaps sate Sylvanas' expectations for purity and good will towards her. It didn't take long for me to think of the right person for the task, and my eyes shifted about the room in a subtle search for him. I rose my head slowly and frowned, perplexed to not find him within the chamber. I stood up and slowly wandered the room, some of the other leaders noticing me and undoubtedly wondering what I had planned.

I walked to the entrance to this dark chamber and ventured the tunnel to the other end, pushing the decrepit door open and searching the dark hallways for any sigh of him. And thankfully, leaning against the wall was the infamous undead bowman, hunched over in the darkness as his eyes glanced towards me. It glowed like an ember, a searing stone slowly losing its heat and passion from the coldness of the world. He remained silent and visibly waited for me to begin, and I found my shoulders slacking in relief as my face shifted into a displeased scowl.

"Trust you to skulk off and brood to yourself, Blightcaller" I lectured dryly, though a passive stare was all he offered in response as his sights returned to the opposite wall of the corridor. He knew I baiting him into a conversation, and I myself decided to late that small talk would not be ideal for the pair of them. I resulting got straight to the point, asking curiously "What are your thoughts, my I pry?"

After a moment, he gently kicked away from the wall and straitened his posture, turning to me and finally offering his two coppers. "I wish to see her next" Nathanos said, plainly and bluntly, though his words filled me with more relief than I had expected them to. I could hear the footsteps behind me stopping as the other leaders could now overhear the conversation, and I had no problem with them doing so.

"I and the Dark Lady have a history…" Nathanos reminded the lot of us, though we all had not needed reminding of their polarising unity that the pair had shared for several years now. As we briefly reflected on such times, Nathanos concluded "…And our history together may help to encourage her support". The rest of the leaders surprising took less time than I thought to consider this plan fondly.

"Indeed" and elegant elven voice muttered to herself from over my left shoulder. Tyrande drew my attention as she stated "I suppose you are the one she would trust the most amongst us". But in spite of her approval, her face darkened as she glared towards the Blightcaller, "I hope you know what to say to her".

"Wait a minute" a voice interjected from the inner parts of the tunnel, belonging to the ailed Elf Ranger Lord as he staggered towards us. Lor'themar's brief argument was enough to halt us for a time, "What if he fails? He…" Baine was quick to support the Blood Elf as his strength waned and his form toppled briefly.

"It is true" a pallid and worn sneer from beside Baine criticised as he stepped forward with what little assertion he had left after his humiliation. "Sylvanas would not disregard his evil acts for the sake of their partnership in crime" he reminded the lot of us before pointed a finger and shooting a cold stare at Nathanos, "If this lapdog cannot change her mind…."

Genn was interrupted as an unwavering Nathanos pushed his hand away, his lips seeping venom as he huffed "You truly learn naught from your mistakes, dog". The pair traded glares before Nathanos turned to the group and addressed them, "If I cannot change her mind, then there are still others amongst you to replace me".

While not the most effective reassurance, it would undoubtedly the best we could expect for such a truly concerning question.

"Very well" was all I could offer as Nathanos made his way passed us, but I managed to catch him before he left as I held his shoulder. "I implore you" I spoke softly as he gave me only the slightest of his attention, "You may be our only hope". A deafening silence was all I earned from him as he continued and made his way to Sylvanas's chamber, leaving the rest of us to await his return with undivided anticipation.

* * *

Nathanos stepped into the foreboding chamber, unintimidated as the others had been upon their own entries. The mist swirled gracefully about his long, black coat and splashed upwards, as if reaching for him in wanting. He looked around the room, searching intently for his mistress and Queen to make her entrance and reunite the pair of them.

He did not have to wait long for the first sign to make itself know. A soft song filled the air as the mist swirled upwards before him, before finally ending in the shape of the elven spirit in all her ethereal glory. He eyes shone red upon him, but neither could find malice nor panic in the others. Sylvanas's face shifted from its typically unemotional demeanour into a half-lidded frown, the very sense of disappointment to be felt being enough to greatly impact the undead ranger.

"Curious was the only word she had uttered for a lengthy silent, only for her to allow another to engulf the atmosphere between them. Sylvanas glanced behind him toward the open entryway, before she said "I'm surprised to find that you stand alongside them, Nathanos".

"When you had been assassinated, I was imprisoned and sentenced to death" Nathanos explained as he gently closed his eyes, "Consider of that what you will". Sylvanas's eyes briefly widened at these words, as Nathanos looked up as her and added "But, when the world was threatened by the void, they released me and brought me here".

Sylvanas looked away for a moment, a series of emotions ranging across her face as she contemplated his potential fate. But her visage hardened as she inquired "Undoubtedly, they believed they could exploit your servitude to me to further convince me to help them". Sylvanas garnered all the truth she needed from his repulsed backward glance to the doorway, but was once again unready for his next words; "Perhaps, but it is reason enough for me".

Once again, Sylvanas wore a surprised look on her face as she slowly turned to meet his eyes, visibly taken aback but these words and what they may imply. Despite this, she was intrigued; nay, allured to hear the meaning behind them. Her mouth slowly opened as she prepared to speak and fought desperately against her welling doubt, and she simply asked "What do you mean?"

Nathanos stepped forward and held his hand against his chest with respect and dignity toward his Queen, a rehearsed gesture undoubtedly. "The fate of the world matters not to me at this time…"he said solemnly before her, "…nor would any other reason that those miserable wretches may have to return you". Nathanos' hand slowly floated outward courteously, and he spoke calmly but passionately "I would do anything to aid you, my Dark Lady. I pray you'd never doubt that".

Sylvanas had no response to this, not prepared for this following the contested discussion proceeding this moment. However, she cleared her mind and maintained her steadfast exterior. She glared towards her former servant, waving away his courtesy and respect for her as a possibly ploy to gain her favour.

"Do you believe that your flattery alone will justify the corruption and misery we have sewn?" she questioned with a heavy glare upon the undead bowman. Nathanos paused as she asked him this, but not to consider what his answer was to be. Instead, he had known his answer long before even entering the chamber, and long since he had even met his Queen and pledge allegiance to her.

"… No" Nathanos answered simply, "Not even for a second…"

Sylvanas' scepticism faltered briefly.

"I know you, Sylvanas" the Blightcaller stated, watching as the visibly shocked banshee reacted to him referring t her by her true name. "I know the things about you that you've hidden from others, even your own family" he explained as his posture relaxed, "I know the way you think and when you have committed to something". The forlorn spectre's eyes narrowed as he said this, wondering where he was going with this. "Others call it stubbornness, but I have always believed it to be courage" he complimented his queen wholeheartedly, "A courage that few leaders possess".

It was in this moment that Sylvanas had finally realised the tree nature of this discussion. She was bewildered by these confessions that her long trusted ally seemed to have internalised until this time. "You're not going to try and change my mind, are you?" she asked, her voice waning as warmth long forgotten had bloomed.

Nathanos shut his eyes and relieved a lengthy and heavy sigh, his head slowly shaking back and forth. "Never even considered it" he answered truthfully, and Sylvanas did naught to hide her horror from his confession. "You consider us to be irredeemable villains worthy of punishment, and I cannot disagree with you" he stated calmly and held his hand against his chest again, "If this shall be your will, then I would see it done".

Sylvanas was dumbfounded. Completely unable to comprehend this. A new warmth boiled to replace the old, this one she was extremely familiar with.

"Why?" she exclaimed dramatically, "How do you have so my faith in me. I am to doom the world and you will suffer for all eternity because of me. How can you not oppose that? Why do you follow me so blindly? Why?!" Nathanos watched as she as she seemed to hide her evident trembling, in spite of her efforts to express how upset she was. He stepped forward once more, offering her a face of compassion. "I think… you already know the answer".

They were silent once more, this calm sound of low wind and mist providing the only comfort and familiarity to be found between them any longer. Nathanos resolved to be bold, and to prove himself to her in totality. He slowly approached his queen, slowly holding his hand out to her as he stopped before her ghostly form. She felt to urge to evade him and fought it, watching him curiously as his hand hovered before her.

She couldn't resist.

He knew what she wanted in this moment, and it's was what he wanted as well.

The both knew this.

She wanted it so badly, and it got worse the longer it lingered before her.

She lowered her own hand down until it was right above his, and she could see his hand closing around it.

Immediately, her hand dissipated.

…

…

…

She pulled her hand back as it slowly reassembled from the mist, her eyes shut tight as she gripped her wrist. From the corner of her eye, she could see Nathanos grip his own, a vacant stare descending upon his empty palm. If there were ever anything to hurt more than to be denied this one wish, it was to see it denied from him as well. Hurt eyes glistening, she met Nathanos' once more and shook her head in anguish. "It won't matter in the end" she lifelessly informed him, "I hope you realise that."

To the bowman, contemplating the fate of the universe was not worth his attention. He closed his hand and clenched tightly, tight enough to nearly draw blood through his pallid flesh. "To not hold your hand now. To not embrace you" he spoke as his eyes finally showed the misery they had sought to share from "Here I suffer a greater pain than any the Void can provide".

That was the final straw for Sylvanas. It was all too much for her to find the pair of them in such a miserable state with no hope of fixing it. Finally, she buried her face in her heads and wept. She wished, oh so wished that she could cry as she once could in life, but this spectral form sought to strip her of even that luxury. "I'm so sorry for all of this, my beloved" she huffed as she hung her head and curled away from him, "I can only… beg for your forgiveness for… my treachery".

All at once, she collapsed ungraciously and fell to her knees, hunched over and shrinking away before him. Nathanos shook his head and rushed to his lover, no longer caring that he could not embrace her. He knew to be with her was the most he could offer, but he knew to offer it anyway as he knelt down beside her.

"You can never betray me" whispered to her as he leaned town to her level, "And you never will". Her head slowly rose and her stained eyes met his, refusing to leave as he continued, "If we shall not be reunited in life, then we shall embrace our destruction together". He stood and gestured her to follow, and she slowly rose from the mist as her legs reformed. He came close as they gazed longingly upon eachother, "Eternity alongside you… is an eternity worth any and all suffering".

As much as she longed for him to remain with her for longer, she knew to let him leave despite his own reluctance. Sylvanas' next few minutes alone put her through more pain and torment than she had ever known before. How could realising a truth she had already known hurt so much. She sobbed as a smile spread across her face.

Perhaps, in the void, they would find eachother.

They would be together forever, willing to suffer just to be with the other.

Nathanos, her beloved, to suffer such torture and madne-

"No!" She thought to herself. She could never let him go through that just because she decided it.

She wretched as each of her hands crossed her chest to grip the opposite shoulder. She wanted them to be together alive! It would be better! But she couldn't! They both deserve to suffer! They both knew that! He admitted that! They were both evil, and should be punished!

Through her stress and panic, she suddenly felt a sudden wave of calm wash over her as her arms dropped limply to her sides. She lowered her head and thought deeply yo herself, contemplating what to do next. She had not expected anyone to come this close, bust should've expected it to be Nathanos of all others.

He almost got to her.

He almost convinced her. And he didn't even mean too.

She almost changed her mind.

But for the wrong reasons.

* * *

**Yeah, I think I've decided that the next chapter will be the last one. The reason is that all the characters that haven't talked to Sylvanas may not have anything to say that the other character haven't already talked about. But if anyone really desperately wants a full chapter for a character to talk to them, I may consider writing one up.**

**Otherwise, the rest of the character will either not get to talk to Sylvanas, or their conversations will be summarised as the start of the final chapter.**

**Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed this, and are excited for the final chapter.**


	10. Finale

**Finale**

I had since stepped outside of the chamber to consider my options.

The rest of the leaders had had their chance, and they had all been turned away by the Banshee Queen for their inadequacy.

And now; there was nobody left except me, and I had absolutely nothing to say to her. Not out of spite or fear, or any other such drive. Much the opposite, in fact. I had little involvement with the rest of the Alliance and Horde leaders' decisions and efforts against the Dark Lady, and I believe there would be nothing for me and her to discuss. "What a dull note for the end of the world to go out on" I pondered as I leaned limply against the nearby column.

It truly was hopeless.

I knew it for myself at this time.

And I doubted my colleagues had not similar thoughts.

I clenched my fists as I recalled the words spoken by each leader, all detailing in complete clarity the exact reason they had each failed. Were it before I had come to know them better than I had before, I'd have at least forgiven some more than others…

I felt my heart grow cold from this thought as other began to bloom within my mind, contemplating the gruesome fate that I would soon share alongside my lost family and friends. A horrendous doom that all life on this planet would share together for our individual crimes against sanity, crimes committed by the lowest of inhabitants within this world and all world's beyond.

I suppose Sylvanas had at least partially hoped that we would finally come through and her efforts for this world would not have been wasted. In fact, I thought with a small smile, a world saved by Sylvanas would truly be the best world to possibly exist. But even if Sylvanas would have wanted such a turn of events, I think she knew for herself that it could never come to pass…

Just as I myself never could.

All of the leaders were destined to fail from the beginning.

Their histories were too chequered.

Their goals too selfish.

Their actions and the consequences too unforgivable.

And all the goodwill, guilt or desperation they could muster as they spoke with her could never have been enough to compensate.

Sylvanas knew that and I think she had relished this one chance she had been granted to reprimand my colleagues for their corruption. Sylvanas had apparently gone into very intricate detail in explaining why each leader had not deserved her forgiveness, according to how the leaders had told it upon leaving her chamber. Most reasons for their failure had varied, but my own distain for them had not.

Jaina's past with Arthas had been used against her, along with her spiteful bouts for revenge that came later.

Thrall was declared a coward for his refusal to take responsibility for his mistakes as the former Warchief.

Oddly, Nathanos was rather evasive in describing his conversation, and summarised that he simply could not change her mind.

But Genn…

His negotiation could not have gone any worse. Sylvanas tapped all the right buttons and Genn crumbled beneath his own arrogance and brutality. My fury towards that odious savage had been spent prior to his unsurprising failure, and all I have left to offer him is disregard.

And every leader that had followed in this poor example had fared no better in the least.

* * *

Baine and Sylvanas' conversation had apparently been similar to her conversation with Thrall, as I had expected it too. The only deviation was apparently the topic of the Tauren having joined the Horde, and how they would have prospered had they not gambled their fates with the Orcs. It concluded with Baine suggesting the Forsaken should've been the greater source of contention the Tauren would face in serving the Horde; I suppose it was an internalised thought he wanted to express before he spitefully left the chamber.

* * *

The Stormrages went straight to the burning of Teldrassil, naturally. Sylvanas never admitted her regrets, but confessed her paranoia towards the possibility of an Alliance retaliatory offensive following the Stormhiem attack. A retaliation that the attack on Teldrassil was apparently supposed to prevent, though none shared her superstitions. With a knowledge of Genn and Jaina that I possessed, I believe her paranoia may have been well founded, if admittedly difficult to share since only she would've likely been in the line of fire.

Sylvanas eventually dove into the topic of Illidan and their treatment of him following his actions during the Third war, the Stormrages providing the details by request. The thought of Alleria speaking to Sylvanas of hers and Turalyon's time with Illidan crossed my mind and irked me. Apparently mentioning their reactions to Illidan's letter is what had sealed their fates. Sylvanas eventually declared them spiteful and conceited in the face of admirable sacrifices, and this turned them away.

* * *

Lor'themar discussed their people with her, and Sylvanas suggested a lack of gratitude for her part in bringing the blood elves into the Horde. Lor'themar had confessed his fears of the tenuous relations between the Forsaken and the Sin'Dorai and put their people first, though it apparently did not excuse the apparent mistrust that Lor'themar had expressed elsewhere. Sylvanas claimed to always hold her people in high priority, and her denouncement of this fashion was inexcusable. It eventually ended with desperate bribes of power and reunion with her people, before Lor'themar finally conceded.

* * *

And the discussions slowly dried up as they went on from here.

Brann had questioned what relation Azeroth had with Sylvanas; possibly to distract from what little they had to discuss, before Sylvanas turned to stone and dismissed him.

Mekkatorque's attempt had been surprisingly lengthier than we had expected, and much of it involved the Gnomish technology's role in the Alliance' power. She basically said that since all of the Alliance' technology was Gnomish and the Alliance depended on it so much, then Gelbin could've prevented this warfare and limited the Alliance at any opportunity. With the knowledge of his responsibility for the war's escalation in technologies and what they resulted in, the conversation was all but over as the topic of the plague was about to begin.

* * *

At what point had this gone from trying to convince Sylvanas we were good people, to instead confessing our darkest thoughts or declaring hypocrisy just to try and antagonise her?

How far down this whirlpool of despair had the leaders gone to crumble in the face of true loss?

Can't've been different from my losses, though I had clearly coped with it much better.

I miss my father terribly and want nothing more than to rescue him, in spite of the contested relationship I've had with him in the past.

I often had my disputes and disagreements with him over his actions and his poor judgement, and would only worsen from his never learning from his mistakes or acknowledging my efforts. Even now, I find my cold breath arming as I exhale as irritation welled in my heart.

He had so many chances to make a difference, and he opted for hated every time.

To think that we could've already gotten the better world we had desired had it not been for people like my father.

People like Genn.

People like Jaina.

People like Garrosh.

People like Sylv…

….

…

I just equated Sylvanas to my own father.

My mind blanked as every other thought vanished, leaving only this blasphemous comparison to haunt me.

Both had indeed been driven by a lust for revenge that often drove them to less favourable acts. Both had great responsibilities get in the way of the truly important things. As I consider it know, the only difference that the pair of them had as far as I was concerned what I had known my father my whole life, and always underst-

My eyes shot open, beaming with a kind of life returned after so long.

I knew what to do.

* * *

Before I returned to the chamber where the rest of the leaders resided, I first began roaming the halls and searching the rooms. I finally happened upon a room that had what I was looking for and stepped inside, looking over the furniture for a suitable choice. I finally decided on a simple wooden chair that was tucked neatly beneath a table containing various documents. I took the chair and turned to leave as I returned to the chamber.

The other leaders had been discussing something as I made my way back through the chamber, though I cannot recall what was being said at the time. Nor did I care for that matter, as they quickly fell silent and upon my appearance. I disregarded them and headed straight for the tunnel opposite, the leader staring at me blankly and likely alienated by my evident determination and confidence. I could hear whispers behind me that grew faint as I distanced myself from them, focussing entirely on this long anticipated encounter.

I stopped in the centre.

I could practically feel the darkness' cold embrace as I was enveloped within this empty room. It was all silent beyond the slightest hint of the voices outside. My heart's pace quickened as the smallest waves of doubt washed upon me, before they steadily evaporated beneath my welling excitement. I did my best to control myself and maintain a calm exterior. I wouldn't want to alienate my host, after all.

Speaking of which.

The mist that the others had mentioned in passing had begun to spill into the chamber, enveloping my feet and swirling calmly over the stone floor. After an eerie period of inaction, the mist finally slowly withdrew to the far wall of the room and spiralled upwards in a whirlwind of ominous cold and faint whispers. The mist came together to create the elven form I had expected, those red eyes opening and shining upon me.

I remained silent and still, unintimidated.

She remained silent and still, expectant.

"I can imagine the weight upon your shoulders little lion; how the fate of theirs is placed upon you and you alone" she spoke softly, looking upon me and analysing my behaviour. I offered no response and decided to humour her, and she seemed to realise this. "The others had shown their colours and doomed this world" she continued in a low tone as she leaned in towards me, her hands on her hips. "Whatever you have to say to me… you had best hope it is enough to make up for the whole rest of the world" she insisted, "And if not… they had best be some magnificent final words before the end".

"I'm not going to say anything"

Sylvanas paused and offered me a quizzical look, undoubtedly the last thing she had expected to here. And I was only getting started.

I placed my chair on the ground and faced in her direction, before seating myself and placing my hands gently together in my lap.

"I'm going to listen".

* * *

Hours.

Or at least what seemed like hours.

Far longer than any of the conquered leaders had spent in their attempts, and definitely longer than they had expected me to spend in my ploy to spare them their gruesome destiny. They must've sat through the worst anxiety for far longer than they could handle; I'm astonished none had gone insane or interrupted us at any point. Instead, they had most likely resigned themselves. Not the most dignified means to pass the time, but it had certainly benefitted me; if for the wrong reasons.

Until finally, just as time seemed to exist all at once for the terrified brethren, at sound finally drew their attention away from their inner demons. The faint sound of my footsteps slowly grew as I made my return to the chamber, my silhouette in the darkness washing away as light shone upon my form. However, I had not stopped as they may have anticipated, and continued to the exit without even uttering a word to them.

I left for a certain room, searching though the corridors before I finally found the door I was looking for. I rammed my shoulder against the frail wooden frame and proceeded inside. As I had expect, this room was Sylvanas' personal armoury, littered with various weapons, gadgets and other military essentials. I roamed the room and searched the walls before my eyes were fixed on a curved cone shape in the dark. Just what I was looking for.

I returned with Sylvanas' war horn and stopped in the middle of the chamber, staring quietly into the dark tunnel. Eventually, a pair of red eyes greeted me, prompting my to hold the horn before me and offer a nod of reassurance None of the leaders spoke as I stood there, offering no words nor emotions as I ignored them..

And from the blackness stretching onward, she walked.

She was slow in her movements.

It was very well like second thoughts.

It was not fear of rejection or paranoia of any kind; more likely reflection on her hatred for the last time before she finally decided on her true desires.

She had stopped next to me and turned to look upon me with a glance from the side, "Now".

Horn in hand, I brought the mouthpiece to my lips and blew hard. Throughout the chamber echoed a low, even haunting bellow that strained my ears to maintain. The rest of the leaders had anticipated the sound and covered theirs, while the spectral Sylvanas remained unaffected. After the horn was sounded and the call was made, I lowered the horn to my side and we were left to await their arrival.

In time, the elegant and ethereal glow of Sylvanas's ghostly frame was accompanied by that of her winged servants. They had been relieved to learn of their queen's change of mind and heart, and prepared for the final resurrection. Sylvanas looked upon her servants, and one returned her gaze before saying "Only three shall remain, My Queen. We hold faith in your plans". Sylvanas was silent, stern, possibly focusing on her resurrection too much to give a response. The four Val'kyr encircled her and began casting their spell, the room glistening with ethereal light.

As the room was lit, I drew my attention to the ground as to spare my eyes from the blinding aura, but I soon noticed something strange. The floor, once seeming black whilst coated in darkness, now shone a disconcerting crimson hue. I had never noticed that before, I wondered when the floor had cone to be coated in a crimson c-

…

…

…

I try my hardest to disregard that moment.

But every time, it just keeps getting harder.

Why does this have to keep being difficult?

And it didn't get better.

As the spell was in its adolescence, I noticed the crimson stains upon the ground had begun shifting towards the circle, crawling in waves along the ground and towards the feet of the elven spirit. Upon reaching her, it climbed and manifested as her original mass, her flesh long scattered and eviscerated not too long ago. Soon all the blood had seeped from the tiling and reunited with its host, not a single portion of her form left unoccupied.

In moment, all of her original flesh had begun regenerating, but in a very uncanny way that I had never seen before. As her skin returned, I started straining to recall how it had looked before, let alone distinguish the two otherwise contrasting appearances by look alone. My mind did what it could to envision the blatantly grotesque transformation, only to be left pondering naught but the final result.

Sylvanas had returned.

Once again in her undead form.

"My lady" a voice croaked from amongst us as Nathanos dropped to his knee and bowed his head in honour. Her eyelids split and her unmistakable cold glowing stare washed over all of us, before she raised her pointed finger and slowly guided it to hover towards us all.

"All of you…" she hissed ominously as her voiced reverberated about the stone walls of this desolate room, "Come with me".

* * *

She wandered elegantly to the entrance of the chamber and we followed behind her, maintaining out pace as she entered the main corridor and travelled southward. She had not said where we were going or what we were being taken to see, but I can only pray that I had succeeded and that she were guiding us to our redemption. Minutes flew by unacknowledged as we descended staircases, traversed dark corridors and anticipated our destination.

She halted before a room with a sealed chamber door.

"This is it" she informed us, "My private storage room".

Nathanos' eyes widened in surprised as his mouth hung open, muttering "None had ever been allowed in this chamber except for you". Sylvanas turned to him and raised an eyebrow, "With the best of reasons… as you will soon see".

She looked to her loyal Val'kyr and pointed towards the nearest, the winged revenant watching attentively. Sylvanas slowly rolled her palm open to gesture towards the door, "If you please". Immediately recognising the order, the Val'kyr floated through the metal door without any resistant. From within, there was a substantially loud clicking sound, before the door slowly rolled open and the Val'kyr passed through to reunite with her fellows.

The Banshee Queen beckoned us inside and we enthusiastically followed her lead, stepping inside one-by-one and looking about. We could see the enormous locks that littered the steel door's frame. But our attention was instantly diverted away as we came to truly realise what the spacious room was littered with. Piles of it had been stacked in the far reaches of this underground vault and all radiated with a glow worthy only of the highest light.

Azerite.

"Azerite!" I saw my colleagues were left speechless, and I could not help but share their astonishment.

"I have been collecting whatever Azerite my army could spare for the past month…" Sylvanas explained, "And have been keeping it here and using it for my tests". The leaders murmured amongst eachother for a moment before Genn stepped forward, "Tests… You're referring to that experiment we caught you doing when we killed you?"

Sylvanas nodded silently with a displeased glower, "Yes… and unknown to you fools, since you'd been too focused on staining that chamber with my blood, I had in fact finally found the solution I was looking for".

How could that be?

We had killed her before she could finish whatever she had worked on.

I mulled over the events that had occurred, surprised myself as I strained to recall the minute details of that night as I had driven myself to purge my memories of that event. I remember I had been the first to find her, and she had indeed been working on her experiment. I halted as I suddenly remembered what happened before the rest of my former allies had arrived.

Her arm.

She spilled the chemical on it, and then she immediately cut it off in a mad panic.

What would the chemical have done to her?

"It was the formula that I had written on the documents on my experiment table" she explained as she cave a half-hearted hand wave, gesturing towards the entrance behind us. "Months spent balancing my appearances in public" she groaned as she rubbed her temple with her fingers, "along with toiling here for the appropriate combination".

"A combination?" I inquired curiously as she turned to face me, "What was this 'combination'?"

She offered me a smirk, confusing me with her uncharacteristic behaviour she had once again expressed towards me. "A combination of two things that none of you would have _ever_ expected" she answered with a small chuckle, "… and both just so happened to be in vast quantities stored in _this_ very city". She held her hands behind her back as she approached us, before stopping as her face returned to the familiar inscrutability it had often donned.

"The Plague" she said sternly.

"The infectious properties of the Plague, combined with the purification of Azerite" she continued as excitement seeped into her tone, "Together, they've created an agent capable of purging dark magic". She paused and frowned as she gripped her left arm and stared at it, "Even death".

No doubt my companions were as flabbergasted as I was to here this.

"The plague and Azerite?!" Tyrande exclaimed in bewilderment with her hands held aloft in confusion, "Who would think to combine two such opposing things?" Malfurion stepped beside her and questioned "How could it be that a solution so grand could be so simple?" as his arm wrapped around his beloved to calm her. "This solution required a unity of opposing forces" she answered dryly before turning to face away from us. She was quiet for a moment before adding "You'd never find it… because you never looked for it".

I'm not surprised to feel the offense and contempt felt by my allies for these words, but their will to express such reactions had long since been trampled by their own guilt. "Actually, in fairness. I had stumbled upon the right combination by accident" Sylvanas admitted with a slight head tilt, "I may have not even realised it unless it had… proved its effects to me… _on_ me".

"So that's why you cut your arm off" Thrall interjected as all eyes fell upon him, "It was curing your undeath". She answered "Yes. If I had transformed back before it was time, it would have exposed me" she described, "And as I said, I could not trust any of you to not kill me and steal the formula for yourselves".

I had a feeling the rest of the leaders were considering her words and what they would mean.

Honestly, I don't think she should've said that.

I grew nervous that the leaders would all do as she suggested and kill her for the formula, now that they all knew it.

I prayed to myself that all this pain and effort would not be in vain.

Please…

Please don't ruin it now…

"Anduin…"

I heard a voice speak next to me, and I turned to find all of the other leaders watching me intently. Genn stepped forward and bowed his head to me in unexpected solemnness, "The other leaders and myself have come to an agreement". All at once, the other leaders bowed their heads to me in respect. "We owe you a debt of gratitude that we cannot repay for your help" Genn addressed, "Whatever you say is how it shall be done…my king".

My heart warmed.

My breath was caught in my throat.

Respect.

Is this what it truly felt like?

It was…

Sacred.

Precious.

I seemed to have earned it, but I did not feel that way.

I'm not a lightsend.

I'm just some clueless fool who happened to figure out an answer to a problem.

But I knew, deep down, it was not worth considering this at this time.

"I only have one question for you all" I spoke in a low tone, the leaders listening in intently.

"What the hell are we standing around for" I lectured as my fellow leaders was taken aback by my enthusiasm, "We've got work to do".

* * *

I appreciate how much simpler Sylvanas' formula had already begun making things. After we had spent some time recreating the formula, and time longer to apply it to every Azerite chunk and plague barrel within the royal quarters, we finally prepared to take our leave. Sylvanas demonstrated the effects of the formula on the toxic Plague mist within the city, in spite of Jaina's' offer to reuse the arcane shield.

It was truly miraculous to behold.

A mere essence of the formula and then it immediately began eating away the mist like a fire consuming oil. And it never seemed to be hindered or even halted by the shear mass of the toxic gas, as if the formula immediately generates Azerite to compensate during the spread. Within minutes, our path was clear to the surface and we finally arrived outside the gates of Lordaeran.

I had never felt so relieved to stand within such a desolate wasteland before. Perhaps the claustrophobic confines of the inner chambers of the city had affected me more than I had realised.

We had our barrels of the formula, enough for us all to use at great length.

In time, the formula would also revitalise our diminished mana power, something of little consequence considering the alternative we now possessed.

"The barrels are yours to do with as you wish" the elven queen announced, "But be sure what you wish to use it on in these early times, because we haven't the means to replace it yet". She steps beside the barrels and continued "Any use of this will help to take the world back from the void; there is no wrong use of it".

She pulled a vial from a nearby barrel and searched the group for Genn, before spotting him with a barrel over his shoulder. She walked over and stood before him, offering the vial to him as he gently took it in his own hand. "Do whatever you wish with that barrel" she encouraged, but added "But save that vial… for your son, for me". At the words, Genn clenched his fist and shut his eyes tight, before looking upon his former enemy and offering a nod in acknowledgement.

* * *

The rest of the leaders had finalised their preparations for travelling around Azeroth and rescuing the souls suffering in it. But I stepped away from the group and noticed Sylvanas had done the same. She was busying herself with watching the twilight sky in deep contemplation. I was curious about her thoughts, and admittedly had a few questions of my own to be answered. I approached her as she stood along the hill by the toppled Zeppelin tower, and she offered a glance to confirm her knowing my presence.

"Was it truly what it took to convince you?" I questioned; and from her reaction, she seemed to have put a fair amount of thought into this herself. "Yes it was. I never really thought about it, but I'm so glad you were willing to do it for me" she answered with a smile, "A life story can be exhausting for all parties involved in its telling". "I wasn't bored for a second" I reassured her with a grin in return, "I'm glad to find such a wonderful story had the best possible ending".

I swear, were she not undead, I would be sure she blushed.

Reaching beneath her black cloak, she retrieved a small vial of the formula for herself, peering through the glass at the uncanny liquid inside as it sloshed ungraciously. "I guess I had set my standards too high" she confessed, her eyes never leaving the vial. "I only wish my words could have made up for the ways of the other Alliance and Horde leaders" I responded with a disappointed huff. "Don't concern yourself with it too much" she encouraged as she looked to me, "I've found that as long as there is at least _one_ truly pure soul in this world… _that_ soul is worth the world itself".

I was completely taken aback by that.

Never had anything so affectionate been said to me.

And I doubt she herself had ever said anything so affectionate at all, for good measure.

Truly, that one sentence had been more alienation than anything that had transpired these past few days.

"So what do you plan to do with your formula?" I questioned, thought she did not need time to answer me this time. "Whatever I can for my people" she answered simply, before considering her words and clarifying "Not the Forsaken, the Sin'Dorai. The Forsaken can be restored to humanity if you so wish". I exhaled through my nose as warmth filled my body, "I appreciate that".

"Other than that, I will be searching for my sisters to restore them to normal" she stated with a stern tone, and it pleased me that she would be willing to aid her family despite their contention in the past. "I'm sure they will appreciate my saving them and consider it both a redemption, and forgiveness" she suggested before a slight smirk formed on her features, "Of course, after I've finished scolding them and calling them morons". I tilted my head and gave a comical nod, "But of course".

As a moment of silence passed between us, I could tell Sylvanas was done with her light-hearted banter and the atmosphere became more serious. "Anduin…" she began as her tone softened and she made eye contact with me, "I hope you realise what you have achieved". She glides her upturned palm towards the rest of the leaders, "This changes all of the rules. Everything that we've known as mortals is about to be rewritten by us". She drew a deep breath and exhaled with clear anticipation, "The world will never be the same again".

I held my hands on my hips and my eyes narrowed, answering honestly "Nothing would please me more". I paused to think for a moment, "Except… rescuing my family from the void". She looked at me quizzically as I clarified, "We have what we need to save the world, but it won't be enough to rescue the souls lost to the void". Unlike what I had expected, she offered only a small smirk as a response.

"Who said _we_ would do it?" she inquired, leaving me stunned and puzzled as I struggled to understand what she could mean. "This world will be rescued from the whim of the Old Gods, but that's not the end of it".

No.

I don't believe it.

"You don't mean…" I stammered in shock.

She grinned confidently, "I do".

She pulled the cork of the vial and hovered the opening by her mouth, before she gave me one more glance and her final words on the matter.

"The Sleeping Beauty shall finally awaken."

**The End**

* * *

**And yes. This is the end of the story. I wont be doing any more with this story.**

**Thanks so much for sticking with the story for as long as you lot did. I cannot tell you guys how much I appreciate the attention this story has been given.**

**This is my new most viewed story, which used to be my Mortal Kombat story for some reason.**

**For those who find the reveal of the secret dues ex machine. - Insert Clark Gable Quote Here.**

**Thanks again folks. I hope I've given you more entertainment with my work than Blizzard has given be with there's.**

**See you next time.**


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